Kal'Ex
by 2ptTakrill
Summary: AU; W/if Clark had attended a school where everyone had secrets? Could Clark fit in, even with one more secret to keep?
1. Chapter 1 Introduction

Author's comments:

This is my second attempt at posting and given that most of my focus is currently on my first, Hogwarts ½, I don't expect to be updating this story as frequently. I just decided that I would like to see what people thought of another sample of my efforts about a different character. For those who might be upset that I'm diverting my attention from Hogwarts before it is finished, don't be. The way I deal with writer's block is by working on several projects at once and believe it or not Hogwarts isn't even my longest so far, just the one I thought more people would like. When I find myself frustrated and going nowhere, I switch to something else until I get my muse back. Sometimes one story seems to come easy and quickly jumps in length ( which is how Hogwarts became the second longest when it was the first ). My focus is still on Hogwarts and getting out a ten to fifteen page update every week until I can list it as complete, at which point I will start on the sequel "Black Lotus". I just wanted to see how a second of my stories might be received and if it is positive enough maybe I'll start posting the other two stories I started at the same time as Hog warts, they are both over 90,000 words long or around one hundred pages at font size twelve.

This is my fourth longest and the only one so far that isn't a Ranma story. About two weeks ago I found myself watching cartoons with my nine year old nephew and X-Men: Evolution was on. I read some of the Smallville fics having enjoyed the show when it first came out and it occurred to me that throwing young Clark in with a bunch of super powered teens from the Marvel universe was a natural.

Unlike Hogwarts, this is an AU fic, meaning I will be either ripping up or out right ignoring the original story. I will borrow some of X-Men's original plot lines ( not having much of my own ), but with the introduction of new characters they may be unrecognizable.

In regards to OOC, there is going to be a lot of it. Mostly because I don't know the original characters all that well. It has been years since I saw the X-Men cartoons and the last time I watched Smallville Lana had just found out she wasn't really pregnant, while Lois was dating Oliver. What little I know after that came from the few fanfics I have read. The other reason and the reason I stopped watching the show is because I didn't much care for what they were doing with the characters. Like most WB shows Smallville seemed to devolve into teenagers climbing in each other's windows and the question of who is sleeping with who. If that was my interest I would be watching Desperate Housewives. Also when it comes to power, my Clark is a little more like the one from the old Donner film. He is currently outrunning trains, not bullets and if a bullet does hit him it will leave a nasty but quick healing bruise. Clark's powers grow with age and at this point he is only fifteen.

Time wise this story begins just before Smallville and at the beginning of season two for the X-Men. As I am immediately changing the venue most of the Smallville characters won't be in it. I will be introducing Lois early and intend to bring in Chloe ( I really liked her character ) but will not include Lana or Lex, they just don't fit. Also, kryptonite is an exceedingly rare substance that originated on a planet far far away. It is not as common as dirt.


	2. Chapter 2 First Contact

Chapter 1: First Contact

Upon first seeing Xavier's construct, Logan described it as 'a big round room'. Kurt said it was like being inside a disco ball. Scott, a giant hamster ball. Dr. Hank McCoy likened it to an isolation chamber, a place without outside distractions. In contrast to his amazing ability to invent devices that pushed the limits of the imagination Forge was not given to whimsical reflection, he called it a harmonic amplification chamber. Professor Xavier called it Cerebro and sometimes just useful in his search for new mutants. However you choose to describe it one thing shouldn't be overlooked, that it was potentially very dangerous. That is why the wheelchair bound professor and the time displaced mutant Forge were currently occupied with fine tuning it, to ensure the great machine wouldn't fry the Professor's brain when he used it. It would be up to Xavier to make sure it didn't hurt anyone on the outside. That was one potential use of the machine that Xavier never even considered exploiting, its potential to kill.

With Forge's help Xavier had spent the last two and a half hours fine tuning it, trying to safely increase its sensitivity in hopes of piercing Magneto's shields and uncovering his plans. It was painstaking work accomplished in small baby steps. Forge was just finishing another round of adjustments, while the aspirin Xavier took was working to blunt the edge of the headache he received from their last attempt. The cacophony of mental noise had been overwhelming to say the least, that's why Forge was now turning the sensitivity down a little.

"Okay Professor, give that a try."

Xavier couldn't contain a small wince as he carefully lowered the silver head set onto his shinny dome. With great care he linked his own impressively powerful mind to the augmenting machine and his world got a whole lot larger. Increasing Cerebro's sensitivity had necessitated a decrease in its range, it now fell just short of half of the continental U.S. and Canada.

"Yes Forge, it seems to be working just fine now. Thank you."

"Your welcome Professor."

Gathering his tools, Forge left to return to a waiting project of his own. With him there was always another project in the works. Once the young man of native American descent left the room, Xavier began the painstaking task of searching the East Coast for any sign of his old friend and adversary. This was going to take awhile.

Xavier had been at it for hours, having only taken a short break for lunch and his search was now leaving the coast and advancing into the interior. The image projected on the display was covered in a hazy nimbus. Normally Cerebro automatically filtered out the non human minds, saving him from the trouble of trying to differentiate people from squirrels but at this level of sensitivity that was no longer possible. At this rate finding Magneto was proving to be a truly daunting task. He was contemplating calling it a night when he ran across a curious anomaly. It wasn't like the mind of any mutant he had ever seen, it wasn't even human and much too complex to be an animal. Unless animals were now mutating as well. Something he had yet to see.

He tried focusing in on it but the mind was...well, too alien to his own for him to understand its thoughts. Whatever it was, he decided that it was deserving of a closer look.

****

Smallville Kansas was one of those small communities that was more of an area or region than a town. Sure there were several streets and a few blocks worth of businesses and houses that made up the core of town, but most of the original residences were scattered across the county on family farms. Even the new houses, filled with people who often commuted to Metropolis or other places for work, tended to sprout up in clusters here and there on land that was once farms.

The largest employer in town was Luther Corp's Agro Division, itself not located in the core but among the older farms. A massive corporate farm and research center it was built almost twelve years ago when Lionel Luthor snatched up a number of small farms in foreclosure. The corp. was fiercely hated by the older residents but employed enough people that it was for all intents and purposes bulletproof, and there had been a lot of bullets over the years. Not all of them metaphorical.

Bordering the massive Luthor farm was one of the few old family farms left in the area, the Kent family farm. Home to six generations of hard working and even harder headed Kents. The latest generation of which, though not a Kent by blood, was no exception being both a hard worker and stubborn. Clark Kent was approximately fifteen years old, no one knew his actual birth date so they couldn't be sure of his age, instead they celebrated on the day Jonathan and Martha found him in their cornfield. He was already over six feet tall and one hundred and seventy pounds with broad shoulders that promised that when he finally finished filling out he would be a man of no small stature. He had dark black hair with just a hint of curl and deep blue eyes, the kind girls found it easy to get lost in. In a word, he was perfect and by all rights should have been one of the most sought after boys in high school, but he wasn't. If asked the adult population of Smallville would describe him as well mannered and polite, if a bit shy. The kids he went to school with described him differently and not in such glowing terms. Sure, they would say, Clark is nice enough and quick to help out if asked, but most found him to be standoffish and distant. The more perceptive would say that he was guarded, carefully keeping everyone at arms length. It was common knowledge in Smallville that Clark was adopted and well no one would fault the Kent's or their abilities as parents, some did wonder about the home he first came from. No one knew where that was and the Kents wouldn't talk about it, only saying how grateful they were to have him, but Clark was the regular subject of small town gossip and many speculated that he was emotionally scared from being abused by his natural parents. Sometimes Clark wished the rumors were true but he knew better.

He didn't know what his birth parents were like but he did know they weren't from Kansas, or anywhere like it. For the first several years Clark was with them the Kents kept him isolated from others. Martha was well educated and she taught him at home until he was nine, old enough to understand the need to keep secrets. It wasn't until he was twelve that they told him the biggest secret, the secret of his parentage and how they found him. In the fruit cellar behind the house, behind lock and key, buried under tarps and old debris was the cradle they found him in. It wasn't made of wood or plastic, didn't have a sliding rail on one side or a place to mount a mobile. It wasn't like anything one would expect to find holding a small child, was in fact somewhat menacing and if they hadn't already found the toddler wandering beside the road the Kent's probably would have turned tail and ran at the first sight of it. It was a space ship, about the size of a Yugo and shaped like an arrowhead.

Most would have turned the boy over to the authorities, glad to avoid getting involved. Not the Kents, they reacted differently.

To their grief they had long since learned that Martha couldn't have children. The disappointment nearly spelled the end to their marriage. Martha had a hard time accepting that her husband still wanted her if she couldn't provide him with children, but Jonathan was patient and persistent and in time succeeded in convincing her that he wanted her, not the children she couldn't provide. They had discussed the possibility of adopting a child and when this beautiful little boy literally dropped out of the heavens and into their laps, they didn't hesitate to welcome him into their home and their hearts. Clark knew how lucky he had been and worked hard to ensure his parents never regretted their decision.

While his classmates were goofing around, attending parties, going to movies and taking day trips to Metropolis, Clark was working on the farm to earn his keep. His parents tried to dissuade him, made every attempt to send him out with his peers but to no avail.

It wasn't just the need to earn his keep that kept young Clark on the farm either. After so many years of being taught the importance of keeping the secret of his origins, Clark had internalized the practice. Now he kept people at a distance whether he wanted to or not. He was about to start his sophomore year in high school and he only had two and a half friends.

The first was Pete Ross, who had been Clark's friend since before either boy could remember. The Ross family once owned the farm next door, what was now just one part of the Luthor facility. As the nearest neighbors they and the Kents often ran into each other, often teaming up to do the work that neither could do alone or afford to hire outsiders to do. Under Martha's watchful eye, Clark and Pete played and laughed like other children. Fortunately Pete was young enough that the few times Clark slipped up, exposing what he could do, either Pete didn't understand it was unusual or Martha was able to convince the young boy that it was something else.

The next wasn't until after Clark started attending school with Pete and the other kids in town. Her name was Chloe Sullivan. Her father was employed by Luthor Corp and his transfer to the Agro facility brought the outgoing blonde into Clark's small circle. She was so outgoing that she managed to forge a friendship with young Kent in spite of his best efforts to dissuade her.

The half friend was another neighbor, Lana Lang. Orphaned during the very meteor shower that heralded Clark's arrival, young Lana moved in with her aunt on the remains of the family farm. Most of the land had been sold to Luthor Corp, but the family retained enough ground to maintain a small stable of horses and she would often be found riding along the borders of the Kent farm. She is only a 'half' friend because even though she has known Clark for as long as Pete Ross, and in spite of the long held crush Clark had on the girl, there was little real interaction between them.

Those three were the only real contact Clark had outside of his own family, contact that was carefully controlled and limited to ensure they never learned his secrets.

Now they were gone, or as good as.

Pete's mother was a lawyer and without the anchor of the family farm to keep them in Smallville, the family recently moved to Topeka for the good of her career.

Chloe's father was transferred to another Luthor plant at the beginning of Summer. Now his only contact with her was via e-mail. Chloe loved to write.

Lana was still around, physically at least. With the move into high school she had discovered Whitney Fordman. Pleasing to the eye and a promising athlete, the older boy swept her off her feet and together the second string quarterback and the cheerleader were living the fairy tale dream. The limited friendship Clark had with her was as good as over because prince charming had no tolerance for a handsome peasant like Clark in his princess' life and Lana wasn't about to rock the boat for the sake of a childhood neighbor.

Clark was about to start his sophomore year of high school without a friend in sight. Much to the distress of his parents the young man dealt with his renewed isolation by throwing himself into his work on the farm, while pining after the girl next door. Jonathan and Martha loved their son and worried about him, regretting the damage they feared they had done to his future happiness in their desperation to keep his origins secret.

This is the Clark Kent who at nine in the morning was repairing fences near the highway. Normally he would have finished the task long ago, but being near the highway he had to take care that no one passing by might see what he could do. Out of long practice he kept an eye and ear open for passing traffic, thus he had been aware of the large motorcycle's arrival well before it came into sight. Its throaty roar had given it away. For all of the ways he was different, Clark was still a teenage boy and he liked motorcycles. He couldn't help feeling that having one of his own might improve his life and draw Lana's attention away from a jock that he could play into the ground without even trying. Continuing his work, he watched the large Harley go by. Listening to its characteristic cam lope as it rode away, he was puzzled when it came to a stop and fell silent once it was again out of sight behind a line of trees.

Conditioned to be more than a little paranoid, he watched for and saw the bike's rider moving behind the tree line that bordered between the road and the Luthor farm. The man was short and stocky, with windswept brown hair that gave him a feral appearance. Initially annoyed by the man's presence, Clark now grew concerned when he saw him bring out a pair of spy glasses. Especially when the unwanted visitor used them to watch Clark as he worked the fence line.

Not sure why the man had stopped to watch him, Clark continued to work, waiting for the man to either approach or leave. Clark didn't need binoculars to see his observer at this distance and when he saw the older man dialing a cell phone he called on another of his abilities, his heightened hearing to listen in.

"Hello Chuck, I've found your boy. He looks normal enough, but he smells funny...I don't know, just funny. For one thing I've been watching the kid work for almost twenty minutes now and he doesn't smell like sweat, in spite of the hot sun...I don't know Chuck, these ma and pa Skillet types can be awfully wary of outsiders. Especially if your right about the boy. They might greet you with shot guns...Yea, I get it. Look, there's nothing to see here. I'm coming back to the hotel, don't leave without me."

Putting up his phone, the fellow watched Clark for only a moment more before turning and disappearing back towards the road. A minute later Clark heard the distant sound of the Harley traveling away from the farm.

Really concerned now, from what he said the man was specifically looking for him after all, Clark wasn't sure what to do. Should he return to the house and tell his folks, or investigate on his own? There were only two hotels in the Smallville area and since one of those catered almost exclusively to the Luthor plant, he was pretty sure where the man was going. He could run over there, take a closer look and then be back without anyone being the wiser. He didn't like worrying his parents, he felt it made him more of a burden to them, so he decided to hold off on telling them until he actually had a real concern to share. Returning his tools to the old red truck he used around the farm, Clark took a quick look to see if anyone else was watching before taking off at a run that would have left the Harley standing still.

****

Smallville wasn't located along a major highway and there wasn't enough people to support anything like a chain motel, most visitors to town were planning on staying at a local home with friends or family anyway. That is after all the only reason why anyone would actually visit Smallville. The Luthor plant did bring in a steady stream of visitors of its own, but Lionel built the Luthor House hotel to provide a place for them to stay . The end result of this was that the only local hotel that was really for the casual public was more of a bed and breakfast that catered to locals wanting a night of luxury for a special occasional, or people from the city who wanted to get away from it all.

Clark didn't know his way around the Inn, he had only been inside once for a wedding reception. This meant he could find the dinning room and the bathroom but not much else. Having grown up around here he did know his way around the outside. It was child's play to gain a vantage point where he could observe the building without being seen by those within. An easy sixteen foot vertical leap and he was perched on a large tree branch overlooking two sides of the place, including the cars parked outside. He really didn't think he needed to be able to see the swimming pool or the terraced gardens.

Searching the small parking area he found the Harley parked next to a large club wagon van that was painted black and appeared to have a wheelchair lift mounted inside the side doors. There was only one other strange vehicle in the lot, a green Subaru with the words 'Just Married' written in soap across the rear window.

Clark settled in, waiting for someone to reclaim the large bike.

Professor Charles Xavier and his two young charges; Scott Summers and Jean Grey waited at the Inn for Logan's return as requested.

With the help of Jean's lap top computer and the Inn's wi-fi connection, they had been able to learn that the home their quarry was located in belonged to a Jonathan and Martha Kent. The Kents lived their with their teenage son, Clark. Further research turned up nothing more of interest. The Kents appeared to be the stereotypical mid-western family. The only variance being that Martha Kent held a bachelors degree in Law from Metropolis University.

When they heard Logan's motorcycle pull in Scott helped the professor make his way downstairs, while Jean ran down the front stair to meet Logan. The bed and breakfast was handicap compliant, but those were recent changes and that meant while it was possible for a person in a wheelchair to get around they had to take a rather circuitous route.

Jean caught Logan in the front entry, just inside the doors. The young red head tried to contain her excitement, she always did her best to be a proper example, but she was only sixteen and restraint did not come naturally.

In a whisper underlined with excitement, she said "Logan, the Professor said you found the person we're looking for. What did he or she look like? How old are they?"

Logan grabbed the bouncing girl by her upper arms and taking a quick look around to ensure no one was close enough to overhear them, he answered as best he could.

"Calm down Red, HE is a boy about the same age as you and Scott, only taller."

The last was said with a bit of a smirk as he saw Scott and the Professor approach within hearing range. Logan liked the Summers boy, but sometimes the kid was just too uptight. He needed to learn how to loosen up before he snapped, and Logan felt that occasionally rattling the kid's cage was one way to help. Besides, he got a kick out of watching the boy's stiff expression whenever he was compared to one of the others. Scott was far too concerned with being perceived as a leader by the other students.

*Play nice.* Xavier said in Logan's mind, using his telepathic gifts to keep their conversation private from the children. *Scott is only trying to do what he believes is required of him.*

Knowing that the Professor was listening, Logan answered quietly within his own thoughts. *Yea, he's trying hard alright. He tries so hard he usually overextends himself and falls flat on his face.*

Scott and Jean were intimately familiar with the Professor's gifts and they could tell that he and Logan were talking in a way that they couldn't overhear. Scott was pretty sure they were talking about him. All too often he seemed to be the butt of Logan's jokes.

Seeing the annoyed look on the boy's face and knowing what he was probably thinking, Logan let slip a small chuckle. Scott's face turned red and he pushed the Professor's wheelchair towards the door, pretending not to have noticed.

The others followed as Scott pushed the chair out the door and down the side ramp to street level. Reaching the van he opened the door and with a practiced motion, hooked the lift up to Xavier's chair.

Jean was still simmering with youthful curiosity.

"Are you sure it's the boy we're looking for?"

"Don't know Red." Logan answered. It was a good thing he liked her too much to get mad. "All I saw was him working on a fence line, just like any other farm boy. If you want to know anymore about him you'll have to wait till we talk to him."

The mechanical lift finished placing the Professor in the van. He decided to appease some of Jean's curiosity, while warning the others at the same time.

"I can say with certainty that the boy is the one we seek, and I can tell you that who ever our new friend is he is wary of strangers."

By this point they were all in the van, Logan sliding behind the wheel and Jean in the front passenger seat.

"What gives you that idea Chuck?" Logan asked, starting the engine.

"Because he is watching us right now."

Logan may not remember those days, but he was an old hand at the cloak and dagger biz and he didn't give himself away by trying to spot their spy. Scott and Jean may be more familiar with such activities then the average teenager, but they still tried to spot him.

Xavier held in a chuckle at their antics but it quickly gave way to a small rise of concern.

*It would appear he also has the ability to overhear our conversation.* He announced telepathically.

*I thought you couldn't read his mind Professor?* Scott thought back at him. Thanks to the mental link Xavier created, everyone in the vehicle could hear everyone else's mental communication.

*It's not that I can't read his mind Scott, just that I can't understand what it is I'm reading. His thought processes are unlike any other person's I've ever scanned.*

*Then how can you tell he knows what we are saying Professor?* Jean asked. From the look of concentration on her finely featured face Charles knew she was attempting to scan their observer as well. Clearly she was able to sense him, but her confusion made it clear that she was having no more success understanding what she sensed then he.

*I may not be able to understand what I am sensing, but I can recognize changes in the patterns and there was a large spike when I mentioned that he was watching us. It is safe to assume that it was in response to what I said.*

Switching to his out loud voice, Charles suggested that they proceed to the Kent farm. "Let's speak to them face to face before any misunderstandings can develop."

*He's leaving Professor.* Jean's abilities weren't yet developed enough to link with multiple people at once so Xavier was the only one who could hear her.

Sensing that whoever he was had moved a good distance away, Charles felt safe continuing the conversation verbally.

"Yes he is, and at an impressive rate of speed."

"Chuck?" Logan and Scott hadn't heard what Jean said, so they didn't understand that last comment.

"Our friend has left and is headed back towards the Kent farm."

Jean was chewing her lower lip. "He's going pretty fast Professor. Could his abilities be like Pietro's?" She didn't mention how useful it would be if they had someone on the team that could keep up with the arrogant Quick Silver.

"How fast?" Logan asked. He backed out of the lot and headed the van down the road towards the Kent's.

"Fast enough that he will be there long before we are. He also doesn't seem to be confined to the road."

****

Clark was running across Smallville towards home as fast as he could go. He wasn't moving at Pietro speeds, but it was still pretty fast and he had been getting faster and stronger the older he got. Staying away from any houses or buildings and as far from the roads as possible, he kept his eyes and ears open for anyone that might cross his path. Hiding his abilities was second nature to him now.

Rushing into the house, he found his mother doing laundry by the back door.

"Mom, where's dad?!"

Martha Kent was used to her son's sudden appearances, but she still jumped a little.

"Clark, don't scare me like that! I believe your father is working on a circle in the south field."

Martha knew her son better than anyone and she could tell he was upset about something. "What's wrong?"

"Some people are coming Mom and they're looking for me. I...I think they know about me."

He didn't wait for her response, racing out the door in search of his father.

Martha abandoned the unfinished laundry. If Clark was right...she didn't know what they would do.

The south field was filled with row after row of tall cornstalks, almost ready for autumn harvest. There were two water circles in the south field and each was over a thousand feet long, leaving a lot of area Jonathan could be in.

His father wouldn't approve but Clark felt this was too important to waste time hunting through the field, so coiling his legs he leapt high into the air landing atop the water tower. From this high perch he could see the entire field and he quickly spotted his father's large red four wheeler parked beside one of the lines. Now confident of his father's location he leaped from the tower, landing halfway to his destination.

Jonathan had witnessed Clark's second leap and he didn't approve. He wasn't happy about having to lecture his son yet again about being careful. He stepped over to his four wheeler, taking a drink from a canteen preparatory to giving his son a chewing out. He never got a chance, before he could even draw breath to start Clark blurted out

"Dad, there are people looking for me!"

"Huh." Was Jonathan's intelligent response. The statement having taken him completely off guard.

"Someguywaswatchingmeworkandnowtheyarecomingtothefarm."

Jonathan couldn't make heads or tails of what Clark was saying, only getting that someone was coming.

"Calm down son. Tell me again and this time at a normal speed, you sound like a forty five."

Most kids his age wouldn't know what a forty five was, but Jonathan still had his old record player and as a child Clark had found endless entertainment in changing the speed from LP to forty five, listening to the music race or drag.

"I was working on the fences this morning when a guy on a motorcycle stopped to watch me. He was trying to be sneaky and using a pair of field glasses he watched for maybe twenty minutes. After he left I followed him back to the bed and breakfast where he met three others, two teenagers and a man in a wheelchair. They are on their way to the house right now."

Clark looked worried, hesitating to say the rest.

"Dad, they know I'm...different."

Jonathan didn't like the way that sounded.

"Clark, go back to the house and wait with your mother. Don't come outside unless something happens."

Clark wanted to argue, he didn't like the idea of his father confronting the strangers alone but he wouldn't disobey. As Clark disappeared into the corn field, Jonathan mounted his four wheeler and headed for the driveway.

****

The drive to the Kent farm was a somber one. This particular group had engaged in several first contact situations with new mutants and every one went differently. One thing they all had in common was how nervous or even upset the families were when they arrived. The existence of mutants wasn't common knowledge yet and the sudden appearance of strange abilities, or less pleasant mutations were often met with fear. The manifesting youth was afraid of what was happening to them. Their families were usually just as afraid, sometimes even hostile. Because of their fear some greeted them with relief, desperate for someone to explain what was happening. Others attempted to drive them away, or ran themselves. More than once they had been forced to leave a new mutant behind, but they never abandoned them. With the help of Cerebro Xavier kept a close watch on these 'rogue' mutants, waiting for a chance to approach them again when they are more open to his message. There were a couple of those at the school too, Logan for example.

Finding the farm wasn't a problem. Logan had already scouted out the location and the fifty year old rural mailbox with the word 'Kent' painted in white on its side was a dead giveaway. They could see the house from the road and they weren't too surprised to see an old blue pickup truck parked across the driveway, blocking their access. There was a man with short blonde hair standing behind the truck and by the look on his face this wasn't going to be one of those times when a family was relieved to see them.

Logan was happy to see that in spite of his defensive stance the man was waiting with empty hands. He didn't miss the empty gun rack in the truck's back window though.

Parking the van in front of the truck, Logan gave Charles a questioning look and then at his nod exited the vehicle. Logan wasn't the most diplomatic soul and he wasn't Xavier's first choice to speak with a nervous family, but he was the most likely to survive unscathed if things turned ugly.

Staying in the open, his hands held out to each side, Logan approached to within a comfortable speaking distance. All the time doing his best to be as non threatening as possible.

Scott shook his head.

Logan was about as non threatening as a group of Hell's Angels on a stretch of desert highway at night.

As he moved closer Logan was studying the man behind the truck. He could smell the fear wafting off of him, but his blue eyes were calm. Logan was gratified to see that though the man was wary there was no hostility in his cool gaze, just worry.

"Names Logan, would you be Jonathan Kent?"

"Yes, I am. No offense Mr. Logan, but what brings you to my home?"

It went against Jonathan's nature to be so inhospitable but if these people were a threat to his family he was willing to push into whole new territory, no matter how distasteful he found it. With that in mind he took a quick glance down at the shotgun propped up against the side of the truck at his feet.

Logan didn't miss the tale tell look.

From his place inside the van Professor Xavier watched the confrontation between Logan and Mr. Kent with unease. This was never meant to be a confrontation. It seemed that the Kent's already had the wrong idea about anyone who came seeking their son and Charles was sure that it was their son he had detected with Cerebro. Jonathan was not the one and he could detect the presence of a woman inside the house, along with the strange mind, watching fearfully out the window at what was occurring in their driveway. This situation would require more direct action on his part if they were to overcome the Kent's fears and avoid any violence.

"Scott, please help me out of the van."

Jean turned in the front passenger seat, giving him a fearful look.

"Professor, are you sure that's a good idea. I mean, he has a gun."

Scott hadn't known about the gun and now he too looked like he wanted to argue the point. Not that he thought it would do any good.

"I am aware of that Jean but if we are going to convince him that he doesn't need it, I am going to have to show the first sign of trust. Please Scott, if you would. I don't believe it would be wise to leave Logan on his own any longer then is unavoidable."

Taking the initiative, Charles opened the side doors himself.

Scott and Jean exchanged worried looks. Knowing that there was nothing they could say, no argument they could raise that would dissuade the Professor, Scott helped him maneuver his chair out of the van and onto the packed dirt of the driveway.

****

Jonathan had been so focused on the wild haired man standing on the other side of the truck that he was taken by surprise when the van door opened. He nearly went for his gun but hesitated when a man in a wheelchair swung out the side of the vehicle on a mechanical arm. Looking thru the windshield he could see a red haired girl seated in the passenger seat and now he could see another teenager, a boy a little shorter than Clark helping the man in the chair disconnect from the apparatus that had carried him out of the van. The man in the chair looked to be about the same age as himself, but his bald head made it hard to make a confident judgment call. He was wearing a dark gray suit, very conservative with a dark blue tie. The boy pushing his chair was dressed more casually, in a button up blue shirt and tan cotton slacks. He would have looked harmless but for the extra dark sunglasses he was wearing. The lenses were dark red and somehow menacing. The boy himself looked like he could be one of Clark's classmates.

"Hello Mr. Kent, I am Professor Charles Xavier. You have already met Logan. This young man is Scott Summers and the young lady in the van is Jean Grey. They are students at my school for gifted youngsters. I can assure you that we mean you no harm, nor do we seek to threaten your family in any way. We are here to offer your son an opportunity, a chance to live and learn with others like himself, without having to hide his uniqueness. Would it be acceptable if Miss Grey and I speak with you and your family about what we have to offer? Scott and Logan will wait with the van if you desire."

Hearing her name, Jean exited the vehicle and came to stand next to Scott who did not look happy about the whole idea. If it had been anyone but the Professor who suggested it he would be screaming at the top of his lungs against it.

Looking away from Jonathan for the first time since introducing himself, Logan whispered "Chuck" out of the side of his mouth.

"Don't worry Logan. Mr. Kent only seeks to protect his family, he will do us no harm if we don't give him cause. Jean and I will be fine, isn't that right Mr. Kent?"

Jonathan was surprised by the offer, especially the inclusion of the teenage girl. He didn't know what to think about this school, or what the man meant when he said there were others like Clark, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to invite them inside. Besides, though it hurt his pride to admit it, Clark could probably handle them better than he could and without the gun.

"Okay Mr. Xavier, I think that would be fine."

Picking up the shotgun he hesitated, then deciding to show a little faith in his fellow man returned it to its rack, taking care to securely lock it.

"I'm sorry about the gun." He said contritely. "It's just that I can't take any chances when it comes to my son."

"I understand," Xavier waved off Jonathan's apology. "and I am sorry to say that there are those who would give you good reason to be cautious. That is in fact why I started my school, to help alleviate such fears. It is my hope that all of humanity can learn to live together peacefully, in spite of our differences."

With an apologetic smile, Jonathan took over the chore of pushing Xavier's chair from Jean and the three made their way up the long drive to the house.

Back at the van Logan muttered "I hope you know what your doing Chuck, cause I don't like this one bit."

Standing next to him, watching Jean as she made her way to the house, Scott nodded in agreement.

****

Inside the house the rest of the Kent family had watched the proceedings in the drive with nervous apprehension. Clark spent the entire time watching through the cracked door. Watching and listening intently, ready to rush to his father's aid at the first hint of danger. When he heard this Professor Xavier mention a school, he knew his unease was justified.

Martha couldn't hear what was said out by the road, but when she saw Jonathan leading the girl and the man in the wheelchair towards the house she decided that some country hospitality would not be out of place.

"Clark."

"Mom?"

"Would you go get the pitcher of tea from the kitchen, and bring five glasses. We should welcome our guests with as much courtesy as we have to offer."

"But Mom, what if their here to...?" He let the sentence trail off because, to be frank, he had no idea what they might be here to do.

"Don't worry Clark, your father wouldn't let them into the house if he felt they meant any harm. Besides, with your father greeting them with a gun I think we have been rude enough for one visit. Don't you?"

"Yes Mom." Clark didn't argue with his mother, she deserved better from him.

Martha watched Clark make his way to the kitchen and out of sight. She loved her son and she and Jonathan were very proud of him, but sometimes she worried that he didn't feel like he belonged with them. That he felt more like a burden then their son. Sometimes she wished they had never told him he was adopted. She definitely wished he had never found the secret they kept in the fruit cellar. Her son had enough difficulty with feeling like an outsider without learning that he actually was one.

By the time Jonathan and their visitors reached the house Clark had already returned with the pitcher and glasses which now waited on the coffee table in front of the couch.

****

The Kent home was an old farmhouse and not built with wheelchairs in mind, as evidenced by the lack of a ramp beside the stairs. As Jonathan maneuvered Xavier's chair to the bottom of the steps, Clark came out of the house.

"Here Dad, let me do that."

Clark was a little taller than his father but clearly lighter in weight and Jean was surprised when the elder Kent stepped aside to make way for his teenage son. She was even more surprised when the younger man took the wheelchair by its handles and backed it up the stairs without the slightest sign of strain. An older woman with hair as red as her own, obviously Mrs. Kent, waited at the top of the stairs. She held the door open for them as they rolled past.

Soon they were all seated around the coffee table with glasses of iced tea in their hands. Jonathan had moved his easy chair to make room for the Professor's wheelchair. Martha and Jonathan took the couch, while Jean sat in the easy chair and Clark the old wooden rocker that had survived three generations of Kents so far.

As host, Jonathan introduced his family and then their guests.

Xavier couldn't read Clark's mind, but years with his gift had taught him the physical signs and facial expressions and what emotions they tended to evince. Clark was nervous and looked like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Welcome to our home Professor, Miss Grey. I'm sorry we weren't more civil in greeting you." Martha was more than a little ashamed of how they were greeted at gun point, but this was about Clark.

"Don't trouble yourself any further with it Mrs. Kent."

"Please, call me Martha Professor."

Xavier smiled at her, relieved that the tension of their arrival had been left in the driveway.

"Then I ask that you do me the favor of calling me Charles."

Jonathan hated bringing it up, recalling the unpleasantness outside and his fears for Clark, but they couldn't spend all afternoon dancing around the subject.

"Charles..." Somehow the name didn't sound right when applied to the man in the wheelchair and Jonathan suspected it was rarely used. "You said something about a school."

"Yes." Xavier placed his glass upon the table. He sat with his hands clasped before him, arms resting on the armrests of his chair. "I maintain a private school in upstate New York, near Bayville. The students attend regular classes at the local high school where they continue to interact with a larger, more diverse group of people their age. I feel it is important that we don't isolate ourselves from the larger world. At my school though, they are able to live and interact with others like themselves without fear of prejudice or exploitation. Also there are teachers like Logan and myself, who help them develop their gifts and learn how to use them responsibly. It is my hope that one day we will not have to hide ourselves in fear. That one day the world will be able to accept us and our gifts."

Martha didn't know what was said outside, but Clark had warned her that he thought these people knew he was 'different', and all of this talk about gifts supported that.

"Professor, Charles, what exactly do you mean by gifts?"

Xavier looked the Kent's over carefully, trying to determine if they were ready for this.

"Jean, if you would." He waved his arm towards the glass on the table before him, drawing everyone's attention to it.

Jean understood what the Professor wished of her, this wasn't her first time at the show. Concentrating, she caused the glass in question to levitate more than a foot above the table and held it there.

The Kents stared at the floating glass, then at Jean, the Professor, then back to the glass. Because of Clark they knew that it was possible for people to have, shall we say unique gifts, but they had never witnessed them in anyone besides Clark. The significance wasn't lost on them. Clark had spent his entire life hiding his abilities, hiding himself, would it be possible for him to find people among whom he could lower the barriers and be himself?

The Professor wasn't finished yet.

"Jean, Scott, Logan and myself are all mutants. People born a little different from the majority of humanity." Out of habit, he slipped into his lecture voice. "In the human genetic code there is what we call the X-Gene, it is the key to the evolutionary process that has elevated us into the dominant species on this planet. Sometimes, in some people, it causes the sudden development of extraordinary gifts. Usually during puberty when placed under emotional stress, though there have been incidents were it has been triggered in other ways. It is not unreasonable to hypothesize that one day all of humanity might develop such gifts. It is our goal to ease this transition, hopefully avoiding much of the difficulty that often accompanies large scale change in society."

This was all new for the Kents and raised several questions.

"Charles..." Jonathan began tentatively. "if mutants exist, why haven't we ever heard of them before?"

Xavier had answered this question many times before and he knew exactly how best to approach it.

"While there are many of us in the world, we are still only a small percentage of the world's population. A thousand people can easily be missed when they are surrounded by a million." Xavier's voice took on a more serious tone. "Mostly you have never heard of us because of fear. Mutants hide their abilities for fear of rejection. Their families try to hide it for fear of how their neighbors will react. The world's governments know about us, but hide that knowledge for fear of mass hysteria."

Jonathan and Martha exchanged significant looks. Xavier's description fitted their situation with Clark to a T. They worried that Clark would have to spend his entire life hiding what he was, that he would never be able to develop the close relationships that made life worth living. They loved their son and didn't want to see him ending up all alone when they were gone.

Clark recognized the similarities between his own situation and the one Charles described, but unlike his parents he couldn't get past the one difference. Charles was talking about mutants, humans not aliens. Clark didn't dare hope that just because they were themselves different, they would accept someone who was even more different. He also didn't like the idea of living away from home. His parents were the only people who knew his secret and that he was comfortable with. Also, if he left then who would help his dad with the farm? He was about to start a subtle argument to that effect when his father headed him off at the pass.

"Clark, why don't you and Miss Grey take some tea out to Scott and Logan. There's no reason why we can't be hospitable and so far we have neglected them badly."

Clark wanted to argue, but the looks both of his parents were giving him said otherwise. They wanted to speak with Xavier alone, he didn't want to think about the likely contents of that conversation.

Jean looked to the Professor for direction and with a nod he indicated his support for Jonathan's request. She wasn't worried about him, she knew that if necessary the Professor could easily defend himself from a pair of norms. So standing, she took up the tray with the pitcher on it.

"Come on Clark, I'll introduce you to Scott and Logan."

Clark looked less then pleased but he didn't resist.

"I'll just grab a couple more glasses from the kitchen."

In short order Jean and Clark were headed down the drive towards the parked vehicles and their frustrated occupants.

****

Scott and Logan spent their time outside being unhappy.

Scott didn't like being left behind and he especially didn't like the fact that both Jean and the Professor were in the house alone. They had no idea what the Kents would do, or what this Clark was capable of. What if he was able to surprise or even overpower them? Just the thought that he might succeed in hurting either was enough to cause Scott's stomach to churn with worry.

Logan was annoyed at being left behind but he was used to it. He accepted that he wasn't the best person to have around when diplomacy was called for. The only reason he was even here was in case things turned ugly. So while Scott paced, he returned to the van and called in a report to Ororo back at the mansion. She had stayed behind to look after the students they already had. Logan was glad he didn't draw that short straw. He was fond of the kids but they still drove him nuts.

His nose caught a whiff of Jean's scent at the same time Scott stopped pacing, letting him know she was coming and she wasn't alone. Out of reflexive habit he reached out and snagged Scott's arm before the boy could take more than a step in her direction.

"Hold on Trigger, we don't want to spook the boy. You just wait here with me and look non threatening."

Scott didn't even spare him an angry glance, all of his attention was focused on Jean and the boy walking beside her. It didn't ease him any seeing that the boy was not only handsome but taller than him. "Great, another Duncan." He muttered.

****

Back inside the house, Xavier found himself alone with Clark's parents and he didn't need to be psychic to know they were conflicted about his offer. He could see that they wanted their son to have what he was offering, a place he wouldn't have to hide all of the time, but he could also tell that they were uneasy about something that was so far left unsaid.

For Jonathan and Martha this was a difficult moment, what should they do? They wanted Clark to have the opportunity to drop his barriers and make friends without having lies come between them. Maybe even find someone who could be more than just a friend. They knew he had a crush on Lana and they really did like the girl, but neither held any illusions that she would ever be with Clark. At least not as long as he was hiding who he was from the world. They just didn't know about sending him with these...mutants. Xavier thought Clark was one as well but they knew better. Would Xavier and his students accept him if they knew the truth? Should they hide it and let them think he was a mutant?

After another series of significant glances, Jonathan asked Xavier "Charles, would you excuse us for a moment. We need to talk about this, just the two of us."

"Of course, I will just wait here. Take as long as you need."

Picking up his iced tea, he made a show of settling in for a comfortable wait.

Promising that they would only be a minute, Jonathan and Martha left the living room and made their way to the kitchen. That is when it occurred to Martha that Xavier admitted to being a mutant, but he never told them what his 'gifts' were. Knowing that such a short space wouldn't keep Clark from overhearing them, she led her husband into the back hall and next to the washer and dryer. Signaling him to wait, she started the dryer.

"There, hopefully that will keep him from overhearing us." She said.

"Do you think he would try to eavesdrop on us? I mean with that wheelchair and all we would certainly notice."

Martha looked at her husband with affectionate bewilderment. She loved him dearly and thought the world of him, but sometimes his critical thinking showed serious gaps.

"He's a mutant Jonathan. What if his gift is super hearing?"

She saw his eyes widen in realization.

Now that she had done everything she could to ensure their privacy, they could get back to considering the Professor's offer.

"Is it even worth considering?" Jonathan asked. "It would be safer just to keep Clark here."

"I'm worried about him Jonathan." Martha's tone clearly conveyed just how worried she was. "With both Pete and Chloe gone, Clark doesn't have any real friends left and you've seen how resistant he is to making new ones. The only reason he had them was because he was too young to be afraid and Chloe wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

"What about Lana? She's his friend to."

Martha gave her head a small shake, she didn't understand how he could be so obtuse when it came to girls. He was just lucky she was also one of those girls who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, or he would still be a bachelor alone on the farm.

"She's the girl next door, more of an acquaintance then a friend. The fact that Clark has such a large crush on her only makes it worse, not better. Clark still has three years of high school left and I fear he will spend them alone with us on the farm. He should be hanging out with other kids his age, going to parties we wouldn't approve of and dating girls. Instead he will spend them racing home to work on the farm and spend his evenings with his parents. Would you have wanted that life when you were his age? I know I didn't."

Jonathan had to admit that he wouldn't have. During his teenage years he played football, dated all of the cheerleaders and did a lot of things his parents were better off never knowing about. Things Clark and even Martha were better off not knowing about. He didn't want to know what Martha may have done. Even worse, if he had been the kind of boy she was describing he never would have met, much less married Martha and a life without her wouldn't have been a life worth living.

"Do you think sending him to this school with Xavier would be any better? Clark isn't a mutant, what will happen if they find out? We've discussed many times what might happen if other people found out about Clark's origins and we've always erred on the side of caution. Why should this time be any different?"

Martha nervously chewed her lower lip, something he couldn't recall seeing her do since they were dating in college.

"Maybe we've been too careful. As things are now Clark is not only in danger of ending up alone, he is afraid of letting anyone else into his life. Because of this secret we've been keeping our son is afraid to love, or to be loved. Is that the kind of life we want for him? Wouldn't it be better to let him take a chance and hope that people will accept him, then to continue to hide him from ever having a chance to live?"

Jonathan wasn't comfortable with the idea of sending Clark to live among strangers, his every paternal instinct cried out against it. Still, he couldn't deny her dismal prediction, or forget that it was people like that who committed suicide during the holidays.

"What do you suggest we do? It wouldn't be right to lie about him being a mutant, we would have to tell Xavier the truth."

In spite of what Jonathan said, she could tell he was agreeing with her. After twenty years of marriage she knew him too well not to know. She also wasn't surprised that he would insist they tell Xavier the truth. His strong sense of right and wrong was one of the things she loved most about him. The one thing she most hoped they had instilled in Clark.

"Then we tell Charles and let him decide if they can accept Clark, mutant or not."

****

The Kents needn't have worried about Charles Xavier eavesdropping on their conversation. After all, as possibly the world's most powerful telepath he could easily pick their secrets straight from their minds. It was only his own uncompromising sense of ethics that kept him from abusing his powers, ones that were as great as any Clark might one day develop. Powers that are far more open to abuse.

He had used his powers to 'encourage' a child's guardians to go along before, but only in the most dire of circumstances, situations were the child's safety was at risk from those very guardians. In those few cases he had gone so far as to make them forget that their child was a mutant. Once he had even made one particularly gruesome man forget that he even had a child. Even if she hadn't been a mutant, he couldn't in good conscience have left her with that...bastard.

The Kents were not such a case. The only danger they seemed to pose for their son was that of being over protective. He didn't even get the sense that they were teaching Clark to hate what he was. That was something else that was all too common with new mutants.

So Xavier sat sipping his tea, quietly waiting to hear their decision and contemplating his options if they chose to answer no.

****

Outside Jean introduced Clark to Scott and Logan. Logan had seen him before and greeted him with a friendly "Nice to meet ya."

Scott hadn't known what to expect and he clearly didn't like what he was seeing. In fact Clark recognized the look the other boy was giving him, it was the same way Whitney looked at him if he was caught standing too close to Lana. Clark wasn't interested in Jean that way but it still riled him up, Scott inheriting some of his misplaced anger over Lana and the jock.

Jean wasn't actively scanning anyone's thoughts, she had internalized the Professor's belief that to do so lightly was wrong, but she didn't need to try to detect the increased level of hostility Scott was projecting towards Clark.

'Why' she wondered, 'did Scott always feel so threatened by boys who are taller than him. First Duncan and now Clark.'

Logan wasn't a telepath, but his instincts were honed to a lethal edge and he recognized the signs of a bull working itself up over a mare. Leaning in close, he whispered to Scott "Cool it Summers. Don't go picking fights over a girl who isn't even yours."

Scott responded by transferring his irrational anger from Clark to Logan, where it rightfully belonged.

In spite of the distance, with his ears Clark couldn't help overhearing what Logan said. After a year of putting up with Whitney's malice, he had no patience for another obsessive jerk. Especially one who wasn't even the girl's boyfriend. He dealt with this situation the same way he dealt with Whitney, by keeping his distance both physically and emotionally. Like every other time, it made him come across as polite but guarded.

"My mother asked us to bring you some tea and apologize for our lack of hospitality. Look, if you would like we can go into the barn. There is a couch and a couple of folding chairs in the loft and at least it would be out of the hot sun."

"Sounds good to me." Logan responded, accepting a sweating glass of ice cold tea. "Lead the way kid."

Jean, not realizing what it would do to Scott, hooked her arm in Clark's. "Yes Clark, that would be better than standing in the drive."

Scott rolled his eyes in contempt, muttering under his breath. "Great, iced tea and a barn. Their hospitality is overwhelming."

Jean remained oblivious, but both Clark and Logan heard him. Logan gave him a chastising look of disappointment that set Scott's blood to boil. Clark pretended not to have heard, ignoring the insult to his family. Once his folks told the Professor 'no' these people would be on their way, hopefully never to return.

Clark had no illusions that Xavier's mutant high would be any better than the school here in Smallville and at least here he was able to return home everyday, not spending his nights trapped in a dorm.

The barn by the house wasn't filled with livestock or feed, it was used as a garage to store and maintain the often antiquated equipment the Kent's used on the farm. A perfect example was the partially dismantled World War II vintage John Deere tractor they had to circumvent to reach the staircase up to the loft.

Making their way across the ground floor of the barn, Logan was marginally impressed to see how well equipped it was tool wise. Obviously the Kents followed the time honored tradition of doing most of their own maintenance on farm equipment. He did notice that the only visible jack, a large hydraulic model, was partially dismantled, the pieces shoved into a corner. A thick layer of farm dust, along with several spider webs made it clear the device has been out of service for quite some time. Looking back at the John Deer he made note of the solid steel jack stand holding up the rear axle on the left side. The rear tire had been removed and the axle's half shaft was pulled out and lying on a canvas tarp. The shaft was covered in dirt attracting grease and the absence of said dirt gave witness to the fact that it hadn't been out of its casing for very long.

'How does a farmer get a fifty year old tractor off of the ground without a hydraulic jack.' he wondered. A minor mystery he dismissed as unimportant. Most likely they had borrowed a jack from a neighbor. That's what small towns are like after all, neighbors helping each other to raise barns and such. His mind filled with thoughts of simpler times, Logan followed the kids up the wooden stairs to the loft.

Given that the barn was no longer used to house livestock it came as no surprise to discover that the loft was no longer used to store hay. Instead it appeared to have been converted into Clark's clubhouse. It contained an eclectic collection of childhood bric-a-brac and teenage odds and ends. As advertised there was a ratty old couch, a blanket covering the threadbare cushions.

Scott quickly moved to help their reluctant host put up a folding table and a couple of folding metal chairs.

Jean was studying several pictures mounted on a support post. There were the expected pictures of Clark and his parents, taken at different stages in his life. There were also several pictures of him with two others his age, a black boy and a blonde haired girl. According to the pictures he had known the black boy for most of his life and the girl for nearly as long.

There was one picture that seemed out of place, for neither he nor his parents were in it. It was of a pretty, dark haired teenage girl riding a horse. She was smiling at the camera and giving a small wave. Jean could read minds but not through the medium of Kodak film so she couldn't say for certain, but she got the strong impression that the girl's smile was practiced. A response to the familiar presence of the camera and not the person taking the picture.

Logan left the work of setting up furniture to the kids, though if we measured a person's age by how many years they remembered he was about fifteen years old himself, he just felt much older.

Giving the photos a cursory glance, he stepped past Jean and over to a crude wooden desk, more like a work bench in design. The desk was to the right side of the hay loading doors, looking out away from the house. There was an amateur astronomers telescope standing before the window like opening and tacked to the wall above the desk was a star chart. Looking closer he saw that the copyright date marked the chart as about five years old.

Stacked along the wall was a row of books, some yellowed with age. The oldest were the expected books like Treasure Island and The Lord of the Rings, the kind of books one would expect a child to have. Next to these were several newer books on Astronomy but nothing relating to Astrology, a topic usually of more interest to the young then dry treatise on the placement and movement of stars in the heavens. The rest of the books were a truly odd mix. There were philosophy and sociology books on humanism, though no religious texts. Next to them were books written by eggheads like Hawking, books about space and the future of space travel. Books that should be well above the head of your average high school student. The oddest were the books on alien life and visitation, not what he would consider good science.

Being small town farmers in middle America, Logan expected the Kents to be god fearing folk, but this looked more like the study material of someone trying to find their place in the universe without the benefit of religion. He had meet mutants who felt like they didn't belong with the rest of humanity, even some who believed they were really aliens. Somehow Clark didn't strike him as being that 'fruity'.

****

When Jonathan and Martha returned to the parlor Xavier could tell they had come to a decision. He could also tell that they were uncomfortable with that decision. On the outside he waited patiently for them to speak but inside he was preparing to discuss other options if their answer was no.

It was Martha who spoke first.

"Professor...Charles, we want to take you up on your offer but..."

As her voice trailed off, Jonathan took her hand and finished for her.

"But there is something we need to tell you first. Well, maybe it would be better if we showed you."

Charles didn't know what to make of this and for a second he was dearly tempted to take a peek for himself, but his strong sense of ethics held him back.

Jonathan continued "It's out back, in the cellar."

He looked at Xavier as if just now realizing what he was seeing. A little shamefaced he apologized. "I'm afraid it's not wheelchair friendly, the way down is too narrow."

Xavier didn't often think of his 'little handicap', in the world he had built it wasn't often that it caused him problems. Those rare times when it did he endured with quiet dignity. He would certainly endure a lot worse if that was what it took to help Clark accept what he was, to help him find his place in the world.

If he had only known.

****

Out in the loft Clark was doing his best to entertain the rest of their guests. He was friendly and even a little charming, but he wasn't enjoying it. True, Jean was a pleasant girl and she honestly seemed interested in the answers he gave when she asked about the various pictures, but Scott made up for it. He didn't say a word, just sat watching with angry eyes as Clark answered Jean's questions. Logan didn't say much, just sat back on the coach drinking his tea. Clark did his best to ignore the other boy's glares but after enduring the same and more from Whitney and the other ballplayers it was hard.

Why was it taking so long for his parents to tell the bald man no?

****

With Martha leading the way and holding doors, Jonathan pushed Xavier out the back door and across the yard to where the Professor could see the raised mound of an underground cellar. The steps leading down were made of fieldstone and judging by the lack of a path through the grass it was clear to him that the cellar didn't see much use.

A shallow scan of his hosts revealed what he already knew, that they were very nervous about showing him whatever it was that waited below. He didn't sense anything threatening in their intentions, so swallowing his pride he raised his arms, inviting Jonathan to lift him out of his chair.

Jonathan was no more comfortable with the need then Charles, but with Martha's help he hoisted him out of the chair. Placing the Professor's arm across his shoulders, the two waited while Martha withdrew a ring of keys and preceding them down the stairs she set to opening the door.

Xavier noted that there were three separate locks on the door. Far more than should be required to keep the contents of a fruit cellar safe. Obviously the protection of whatever the Kents were keeping in this cellar was something they took very seriously.

Xavier wasn't a small man but Jonathan was used to heavy labor and it was with only a little difficulty that they followed Martha into the recessed structure.

It may be a fruit cellar but Xavier was quick to note that there was nothing of the sort within it. In fact, looking around the cluttered space he couldn't find a single perishable. In spite of that the room was packed full with what could only be qualified as junk. Not only were the shelves full, but the floor towards the back was buried under a mountain of junk and frayed tarps.

Martha retrieved the Professor's wheelchair, folding it so it would fit down the narrow stairs and then with a little effort she cleared enough space on the floor to put it up. After returning the puzzled Xavier to his chair, Jonathan joined Martha in clearing away the mountain of debris that occupied most of the space.

****

Clark was a little worried and more than a little frustrated. 'What was taking so long?' He thought to himself.

Logan was napping on the couch, Scott was shuffling some cards he had taken down from a shelf full of games, and Jean had finally stopped her friendly interrogation of Clark joining Scott at the table.

Moving a little bit away from the others to the railing overlooking the tractor below, Clark focused his hearing towards the house. Searching for the sound of his parents voices, or that of this Professor, he found only silence.

'Where have they gone?'

He looked over at Logan and the two teenagers, with them here he didn't dare leave to investigate.

****

Xavier watched the Kents clear away the debris and as they did he began to see a discernable shape hidden beneath the junk and under an army green tarp. As more and more of the covering fell away he was able to make out that whatever was under the tarp was actually quite large, almost the size of a small car.

Finally, after one last look at the Professor and then each other, Jonathan and Martha Kent each grabbed a handful of tarp and pulled it away from what lay beneath.

At last able to see it, whatever it was, Xavier studied it trying to puzzle out its significance. It was shaped like an arrowhead with a ball shape near the trailing edge that was maybe three feet in diameter. There were no discernable features beyond its outward shape. Rolling closer, he ran his hand along the flat of the arrowhead. It was made of a metal with which he was totally unfamiliar, one that shared some characteristics with a ceramic.

"What is it?" He asked, not taking his eyes off of the strange object.

The Kents didn't answer at first, instead watching him study it while shooting the occasional glance towards each other. Jonathan gave it a try but he was not at his most eloquent.

"This is how Clark came to us."

Martha gave her husband a disparaging look. It was times like this she was reminded that he majored in football, not speech.

"Clark" she said, "is adopted. Twelve years ago there was a meteor shower that hit Smallville and this came down with it."

"I would say it came down," Jonathan threw in. "it carved a sixty foot trough in my cornfield. When I approached to take a closer look, the ball was open and inside was..."

"Clark." Martha finished for him.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Xavier asked, unable to believe where this explanation was leading.

"Clark isn't a mutant." Jonathan told him. "He just...isn't from around here."

****

In the loft Jean had managed to convince Clark to join her and Scott in a card game to pass the time. Clark wasn't doing very well, he was distracted by worry about his parents and their meeting with the Professor. They were just starting another round when out of the blue Jean looked up and with a friendly smile she informed him that his parents and the Professor wanted him to rejoin them in the parlor.

Clark wondered how she knew, he certainly hadn't heard anything, but Scott was already reshuffling the cards preparing a game for two.

Clark was shaken out of his confusion by Logan's gruff voice.

"It'd be rude to keep them waiting boy."

Clark thought the older man was asleep. Even now, having spoken everything about him was totally relaxed. Even his heart beat was slow and steady.

Giving Jean a last puzzled look, Clark rose to his feet and made his way down from the loft. Crossing the driveway he passed through the front door and into the parlor where he found his parents and the chair bound Professor waiting with loaded expressions.

"Clark" His father directed him towards the rocking chair.

Clark's brow furrowed in confusion. Why did they need him there? Hadn't they already told the Professor no? Closing the door behind him, he took his seat.

"Clark" This time it was his mother who spoke and her tone was setting off red flags in his head. "Your father and I have been talking with Professor Xavier and we have all agreed that it would be a good idea for you to attend his school in New York."

Clark just stared, his eyes shifting back and forth between her and his father. He couldn't understand what she was trying to say cause there was no way they were sending him to live with strangers.

"But mom," his voice was low, little more than a whisper. "what about..."

He let the statement trail off. His parents would know what he was eluding to.

They did but their response was not what he expected, nor what he was counting on.

"It's okay dear," His mother again. "we told him. Charles knows you are not a mutant, but he still wants you to attend his school."

Recognizing the boy's unease, Xavier acted to reassure him. While Clark really was alien to his experience mentally, he still felt the boy had much in common with Scott and the others students.

"Clark," he said, his voice calm and even. "I started my school with the hope that normal people and mutants alike could learn to accept each other in spite of their differences. The fact that you are different from both of those groups only makes your presence there all the more significant. Trust me when I tell you Clark, there is a place for you among us."

Clark didn't say anything, but the scowl on his face spoke volumes.

"Son, you can't stay hidden on this farm forever. You have to have a life outside of this house."

"I do, it's not like I never get out you know!"

He couldn't help getting defensive, it felt like they were throwing him to the wolves.

"Clark, going to the store to buy supplies doesn't qualify. You can't focus your entire life around us. This is your home, don't let it become your prison."

As she said that, Martha reached over to squeeze his hand. Both of which were currently clenched into fists.

"But why do I have to go away? School starts in just a few weeks, I'll get out of the house plenty then. Besides, if I go to New York I'll be surrounded by strangers. I would have to leave all of my friends behind. Now what kind of life would that be?"

Clark felt he had claimed victory with that argument.

Jonathan decided that his son needed a dose of harsh reality. In an uncompromising voice, he asked his son "What friends Clark? With Pete and Chloe gone, who's left?"

Clark floundered for a response, trying to think of someone, anyone.

Sensing weakness, Jonathan pressed his attack.

"All you have left are acquaintances, people you say 'hi' to in the hall."

Martha understood what her husband was trying to do, but she was a mother and as such she felt the need to soften the blow.

"Clark, what you need are real friends. People your comfortable with, that you can confide in."

Clark couldn't help it, he may be of extra terrestrial origins but he was still a hormonally driven teenage boy. "What about Lana?"

Martha sighed. In some ways it was reassuring to know that her son really wasn't all that different from other boys his age.

"Clark, you've known Lana for most of your life but she has never been more than the girl next door. If she didn't live so close she probably wouldn't even know your name."

She reached over to claim his other hand, holding them comfortingly between them.

"What you need are real friends, people you don't have to hide from. Even Pete and Chloe, who are as good a friends as anyone could be, even with them you had to hide what you could do. This is your chance to make friends without having to watch your step. The students at Charles' school, their different too and already used to keeping each other's secrets. This is your chance to be like everyone else, to be yourself."

Clark made one last attempt, it was a desperate one and he knew it.

"What about the farm? How are you going to keep up on it without my help?"

Jonathan gave him a look that made it clear what he thought of that particular excuse.

"Clark I am quite capable of running the farm if necessary, and you know full well that things will slow down when school starts. It won't be too long and I'll be reduced to drinking coffee and looking out the window, watching for spring."

Now even Clark's voice sounded weak.

"What about the fall harvest? It takes place after school starts."

"Don't even start on that, the machines do most of the work and we only own one combine so only one of us can harvest at a time anyway."

Martha drove the final nail in the proverbial coffin.

"Clark, we want you to go. We feel this would be best for you."

There was no way Clark could argue with that.

****

Logan and the kids had already returned to the van and were waiting when Jonathan pushed Professor Xavier back down the drive. Saying a final goodbye, Scott helped the Professor into the van while Jonathan drove his own truck up to the house.

Logan noticed that Charles appeared to be somewhat distracted and when he proved less than forthcoming on his own, Logan broke into his thoughts by waving his hand in front of the man's face.

"Hey Chuck, you in there?"

Once he saw the Professor had returned to the vehicle, he went on to ask "What's the verdict?"

Charles took a long look towards the house.

"Clark will be coming to Bayville this fall. The Kents want him to have an opportunity to..." And here the Professor was careful to keep a straight face. "let his hair down."


	3. Chapter 3 Arrival

Chapter 2: Arrival

The drive from Smallville Kansas to Bayville New York was a quiet one. The Kents had left home early that morning, as soon as Clark and Jonathan were able to finish their chores. It was a six hour drive and other then stopping for a picnic lunch at a rest stop in Illinois, they had driven straight through. Clark was seated in the back seat of his mother's car, staring out the window, watching as the rows of corn gave way to the tree covered Appalachian mountains.

The expression on his face was sullen and most people would see him as brooding, Jonathan and Martha knew better. Sure, Clark wasn't happy about going to a new school, but mostly he was just scared. He was going to be surrounded by strangers twenty-four seven. People who didn't know his secret. He wasn't looking forward to it.

He had written Chloe about going to this new school, omitting little insignificant details like it being a school for mutants. Her e-mail back had expressed how excited she was that they had all three escaped Smallville. 'Sure,' she wrote, 'Bayville isn't Metropolis but it isn't Smallville either.' She then sent him all of her research on Bayville, including links to the local school's website and those that struck her as interesting.

It was classic Chloe and Clark was grateful for her efforts. He could have gone through the next three years without the knowledge that there was a local 'Swingers' club though. That was Chloe expressing her own brand of twisted humor, or at least that's what he hoped it was.

Bayville was actually a lot like Smallville, only without the corn. The population size was about the same, with most of the residences scattered about the countryside in little hamlets. The only really significant difference was the concentration of wealth. There are several mansions in Bayville and none of them belong to a Luthor.

Chloe was surprised to discover that this Professor Xavier's school didn't have a website. Clark wasn't, he knew it was an invitation only school. It's not like Xavier was going to advertise that he was collecting young mutants.

****

Arriving at the school's address they couldn't even see the building from the road. They could see the gates though and they were quite intimidating on their own.

Pulling up to those gates, the name Xavier written across their top in wrought iron, Jonathan leaned out the driver's side window and hit the button on the squawk box.

"Hello and welcome to the Xavier Institute. How may we help you?"

The box responded in a woman's voice, her pronunciation clear and precise.

"Jonathan and Martha Kent, we're her to drop off Clark."

"We've been expecting you. Please drive up to the front of the house and I will meet you at the door."

With a hard click and the hum of electric motors, the gates swung open.

Making their way up the drive they first passed through a thick tree line that did a pretty effective job of isolating the house from the street. Coming out the other side they were greeted by the sight of large, immaculate grounds. Vast lawns swept off to either side, with trees and decorative stone work scattered here and there. In front of the house, on the opposite side of the looping driveway, was an elaborate water fountain.

As for the house itself, it was massive, even bigger than the Luthor mansion back home. The style of construction was more modern, less castle like than the Luthor house. It was brick instead of stone, with large arching windows everywhere you looked.

There were broad front steps twelve feet across and waiting on them was a woman. She looked to be about twenty five years old and her skin was the color of chocolate mocha, with long white hair resting like cream on the top. She was dressed in a royal purple wrap around skirt with a pale yellow blouse. As Jonathan stopped the car, she stepped down the stairs to greet them with a warm and friendly smile.

"Welcome to the Xavier Institute Mr. and Mrs. Kent, Clark. We have been looking forward to your arrival." She shook their hands and introduced herself. "I am Ororo Monroe. I am primarily responsible for the care of the students. Don't worry about your bags, we will get to them later. For now I would like to introduce you to the other students." She turned and started up the stairs. "If you will follow me."

Ororo led them through the front doors and into a gigantic room with vaulted ceilings and a staircase so grand Jonathan felt like he should be telling someone he didn't give a damn.

Ororo led them past the stairs, down a hall, past several doors and another smaller set of stairs, then out the back door.

Stepping back into the sun the Kents found themselves in a playground of the fantastic that took their breath away.

The grounds behind the mansion were occupied by more than a dozen teenagers engaged in deceptively normal activities. There was a couple throwing Frisbee, only the girl chasing the plastic disc turned into a wolf before their eyes and snatched it out of the air with her teeth. Over there some boys were playing baseball, with the help of magically appearing ice flows. Most amazing of all was a boy who suddenly burst into flame, flying across the grounds, only to crash into another boy while waving at some girls. The boy he crashed into was now six boys, all identical, all lying on the ground.

Even though Clark had amazing gifts of his own he had always hidden them, so the sight of such a blatant display was...overwhelming to say the least.

Clark watched, his hanging jaw catching flies. While for the first time Jonathan and Martha felt confident that they had made the right decision.

****

Lois Lane was enjoying one of the last days of Summer vacation with her new classmates, a Chinese girl named Jubilation Lee and a younger girl Kathryn Pride. The three of them were sitting on one of the stone benches behind the mansion drinking cold sodas while Jubilee regaled the others with tales of her homeland. Lois was an Army brat and had been all over Europe but her father had never been stationed in the Pacific and China was a great unknown to her. As for Kitty, until coming to Xavier's Institute she had never been outside of the Great Lakes area.

They were watching the new kids and occasionally commenting on them when one of the nubies decided to make a spectacle of himself. He looked to be about fifteen and Hispanic, Lois had to admit to herself that he wasn't bad looking. Showing off, he did several hand springs before suddenly erupting like the sun and literally flying across the grounds.

Lois wasn't really impressed by such blatant and she felt juvenile displays. Though she did crack a smile when she saw his onrushing fate. He was so busy looking at her and her friends, throwing them a cocky wave and his sunspot smile, that he wasn't paying any attention to where he was going. Unfortunately for Mr. hot shot, neither was the skinny kid with his nose in a book. The two collided, going down in a pile that became six plus one as the bookworm suddenly multiplied into several identical clones.

The girls laughed, clapping, now that was a show worth watching.

Lois noticed that they weren't the only ones watching. There, standing at the rear entrance with Ororo was what looked to be another new arrival and his parents. The boy and his father were wearing way too much flannel. She gave him an appraising look and in spite of the obvious flannel fetish, liked what she saw. He was tall, over six feet, with wavy black hair and broad shoulders. He lacked the arrogant carriage of a jock but he certainly had the build of one.

"Now that is American beefcake." Jubilee said, just loud enough for the other two girls to hear.

"That must be Clark." Kitty said, a thin line of drool forming at the corner of her mouth. She was fifteen and caught up in the throes of teenage hormones. Lois had been quick to notice that Kitty seemed to go gaga over nearly every boy she saw. Still, she seemed to know something about the new arrival and Lois was a sucker for information, it went with her gift.

"Clark who?" She asked.

"Oh, uh...Kent, I think. Jean told me that they recruited him a couple of weeks ago. She didn't get the impression that he wanted to come, it was his parents decision. Apparently they have known about Clark being a mutant for awhile now and they wanted him to have a chance to relax and make friends he didn't have to hide from."

That got Lois' attention, it was something they had in common. Unlike most of the students here she had known about her gift for almost two years, she just hadn't realized it was because she was a mutant. Unlike Mr. Sunspot, her gift was a quiet one. People couldn't even tell when she was using it. She didn't have some flashy attack or physical mutation. She couldn't fly, run really fast or jump really high. Her gift was a mental one for she was something of a real life psychic. With just a touch, she could rewind and view the past of a person or thing. So far she could only go back a few hours, but that was several times longer than she could in the beginning and she was confident she would be able to push the envelope even further with the proper training.

The Professor had come for her about a year after she first began to manifest her abilities, explaining to her that it was a mutation and not something to be feared. He had invited her to attend his school then, which would have made her classmates with Scott and Jean, but her father was against it. He in fact nearly became violent when Xavier informed him that his daughter was 'one of those freaks'. Her father, Sam Lane, was a three star general and well aware of the existence of mutants. He was also she learned, one of those who held them to be a threat to normal folks. He hadn't known about her gift, she hadn't shared it with anyone but her little sister Lucy.

Her father had a position that gave him the ability to do a great deal of harm to Xavier and his students, so the Professor had erased the memory of his visit and of Lois' gift from the general's mind.

Xavier had accepted her decision to remain with her little sister, promising her that if she ever changed her mind she would always be welcome in Bayville. Giving her an unlabeled card with his number, he left.

For two years she hid her ability from everyone but Lucy, practicing on her own, learning to love ferreting out people's secrets. Her glacial progress sometimes prompted her to regret not accompanying Xavier when she first had the chance, but she couldn't abandon her sister to their father's neglectful care.

One week, two days and oh...six hours ago give or take a few minutes, everything changed. General Sam Lane was transferred, again. He was attached to a U.N. Peace keeping force and stationed somewhere in East Africa, Lois didn't care to remember where. Most likely whatever third world country it was would have a different name by the time the general left. There was a civil war going on, one ancient tribe trying to wipe out another or some such.

Whatever the details, the general decided that it was too dangerous for his girls. He was good friends with the current ambassador to Switzerland and arranged for Lucy to attend a private boarding school with the ambassador's own daughter. Lois was too old to attend the same school, so when her father started talking about shipping her off to a paramilitary academy in Virginia she decided a change was in order. She called Xavier and asked if his invitation was still open. With the Professor's help she convinced her father that sending her to Bayville was 'his' idea, that her late mother had friends there who would look after her. Promising each other they would write, Lucy went to Switzerland and Lois found her way to New York.

Lois has been at the mansion for more than a week and in that time she has gotten to know not only the Professor better, but also the others who lived there year round; Scott Summers, Ororo Monroe, Forge and the Goth girl Rogue. She had also met several of the regulars; Logan, Kurt Wagner, Evan Daniels and the aforementioned Jean Grey. Logan was interesting, Kurt was a riot, Evan was too cocky for his own good, Scott was uptight and Jean just rubbed her wrong. It wasn't that there was anything really wrong with the girl, she was just too perfect. Like a fairy book princess living in her own little world. When Rogue told her that Jean was dating a jerk of a jock, Lois wasn't surprised.

"So what else did Princess Red have to say? Anything juicy?" Lois asked.

"Yes Kitty, tell us. Did she tell what his gift is?" Jubilee was just as flighty and excitable as any teenage girl. Lois knew that she also had a crush on Mr. Logan. It seemed the Chinese girl had a thing for bad boys and older men.

"Jean didn't really say. I mean, I kind of got the impression that she didn't know. However, Kurt told me that Scott told him that Clark can travel really fast."

'A runner huh'. Lois thought, not really interested.

"Oh, he also said something about the Professor not being able to read his mind. Said it was too confusing or something."

That got Lois' attention. The thought that there was someone the Professor couldn't read seemed so...alien. Why, just knowing that Xavier existed made her nervous and she had nothing to hide. She decided that Clark warranted further investigation.

"Come on." Lois said while standing up. "Let's go meet the new guy."

Behind her Kitty and Jubilee exchanged mischievous looks. "Fresh meat!" they both squealed in stereo.

Honestly, if the pickings for friends wasn't so thin here at the institute Lois would run away from the flighty teens as fast as she could.

****

Ororo was explaining the rules of the mansion to the Kents, especially those regarding outside visitors on the grounds. Outsiders were only allowed during two hours of the day and then only with fore warning. The rules, she explained, were not only to ensure the safety of the students but to provide them with a place where they could safely exhibit their abilities without fear of discovery. The institute, she told them, was created to give mutants a place to freely practice their gifts. A sanctuary from the fears of the outside world.

Her explanation was interrupted by a cheerful voice.

"Hello Professor Storm, is this a new student?"

Ororo turned to find Lois Lane, flanked by Kitty and Jubilee.

"Storm?" Martha asked.

Before Ororo could respond, Lois took it upon herself to answer.

"Hi, I'm Lois Lane and this is Kathryn Pride and Jubilation Lee but we just call them Kitty and Jubilee. You'll find that we use a lot of nicknames around here, like Storm for Professor Monroe."

Lois shook their hands, starting with Martha. Kitty and Jubilee just waved.

She shook Clark's hand last and as she did he asked

"What do they call you?"

Before Lois could reply, a giggling Kitty piped up with "Chatterbox, Lois can't stand silence."

Her hand still in Clark's, Lois gave the other girl a dirty look over her shoulder.

"Only if they don't want to worry about growing old."

Turning back to Clark, "You can call me Lois."

She just looked at him, one eyebrow arching questioningly.

"Can I have my hand back. If you really want to hold it you'll have to ask me out first."

Clark let go of her hand like it had suddenly turned into a poisonous viper, his face turning red to match his flannel shirt.

Lois tried to keep a straight face at the strength of his reaction, but failed.

The other girls giggled, making him blush all the way to his ears.

The severity of Clark's response was a reminder to his parents of why they had agreed to bring him here, in spite of their fears. True, Lois was a pretty girl and her flirtatious teasing would likely get a rise out of any teenage boy, but Clark's response was far worse then it should be. It was another sign of how insulated their fears had kept him from normal teenage interaction. Just like his school boy crush on the Lang girl.

Ororo decided to rescue the poor boy before his feelings were hurt and he grew resentful.

"Girls, this is Jonathan and Martha Kent. Their son Clark here will be staying at the mansion. If I remember correctly they are from Smallville Kansas, near the city of Metropolis."

'Smallville, huh.' Lois thought to herself, already getting ideas.

"If you'll excuse us," Ororo continued, "I still need to show Clark to his room."

Kitty and Jubilee both waved as they headed back to their bench.

With a parting smile, Lois called to the retreating boy as he followed his parents back into the mansion. "See you around Smallville."

Clark looked back with an expression of annoyance, watching her rejoin her friends.

Clark wasn't especially happy when Ororo introduced him to his new roommate and he quickly picked up that the feeling was mutual when she started to introduce him.

"That's okay Ororo, Clark and I have already met." Scott interrupted, his voice clearly expressing his warm fuzzy feelings about sharing a room with the farm boy.

Ororo didn't miss the underlying animosity between the two.

"Is there something I should know?" She asked them.

"No, nothing to worry about." Scott assured her.

Not convinced, she threw Clark a questioning look to which he gave a somewhat strained smile.

"Yea, everything is fine. So, which side of the room is mine?"

****

Clark was sitting on the front step of the Xavier institute watching the shadows stretch as the sun went down. He had been there for several hours now, since his parents left for Smallville and the life he was leaving behind.

It wasn't that he was moping, though he was feeling a little down, it was just that he wasn't on the farm. For the first time since he could remember he had absolutely nothing to do. On the farm there were always chores or extra tasks to fill the time and if there wasn't then he would be studying in his loft, watching the stars and wondering about his origins. Of course he now understood that was the reason his parents had brought him here, because they feared he would never leave the farm.

He could admit that it was his refuge, his sanctuary in a world that wasn't his.

His entire life the farm was the only place he felt he belonged, working with his parents. He did have friends, people outside of his family that he loved and missed, but even with Pete and Chloe, as much as he trusted them, there were always secrets between them and the fear of what would happen if they ever found out the truth. He told himself that they would still see the same Clark Kent, would still be his friends, but deep down was the fear of rejection. He couldn't escape it, not in his loft and not here at this institute.

Xavier managed to convince his parents that here he would be free to make friends without the walls his secrets built, that when surrounded by people with secrets of their own they would all be free to be honest with each other. Xavier thought Clark could find a place here, acceptance without reservation, Clark knew he was wrong. True, with everyone having powers he wouldn't have to hide his own, but unlike the other students Clark still had one secret to keep.

"Clark"

Looking over his shoulder he saw the professor rolling his chair across the patio. He had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't notice the older man's approach, not even the opening and closing of the large front door.

"Come inside, it is time to eat and we wouldn't want to leave the other students waiting. Hunger, I'm afraid, makes them surly and that is not a good thing when dealing with teenagers with their...unique abilities."

Clark didn't want to be here but he was too well mannered to argue, instead rising to follow the professor into the building.

"Clark, you can relax, there is no need to keep secrets here. The institute is your home now, its students are family. Even when some find they don't like each other, we still accept and support each other. There is no need to be afraid."

Clark stopped, looking down into the other man's eyes.

"No secrets Professor? Then have you already told them mine?"

Xavier gave him a paternal smile.

"No son, I will leave telling them to you, when your ready. Understand Clark, while your origins may be unique, your fears are not. You are not the first student to come here afraid that they can never be accepted for who they are. Take Logan for example, he doesn't even know who he is, has no memory of his life more than fifteen years ago, but what he does know is enough to make him fear what the others will think if it ever comes to light. His fears, like yours, are groundless. People are more willing to accept then you think. The other students share your fear, know what it is like to be different, to feel like an outsider. Give them a chance and they will accept you. Your parents are right about one thing Clark, if you hide yourself away from the world you will end up alone. No one can force their way into your life son, it is up to you to let them in. Now enough talk. While Miss Monroe does like to cook, she doesn't like to feel her efforts are unappreciated. If we allow her food to grow cold she will have a few choice words of her own too share."

****

Clark woke up in the room he shared with Scott, the low and steady beat of the other boy's heart letting him know that his roommate was still asleep. A quick glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table let him know it was four in the morning, the time he usually got up to do his chores on the farm. Knowing that it would be futile to try going back to sleep, he rose from his bed and quietly dressed in the dark, the absence of light doing little to hinder him.

Quietly padding his way through the halls he made his way down stairs and out the back door. He looked towards the night sky, searching for something familiar but there was too much light here beside the mansion to see the stars. Deciding that he had no reason not to and hours to kill, Clark took off like a shot away from the mansion.

The grounds surrounding the mansion were large but at the speeds he ran it took only a moment to reach their end. He found himself standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Atlantic. He had never seen the ocean before, seaside property being as rare as hen's teeth in Kansas and he stopped to admire the view. He could hear the waves crashing on the rocks below and the stars shone bright over the water.

He didn't pay attention to the passing time so he had no idea how long he stood there before the sound of another heartbeat let him know he was no longer alone. Looking back towards the mansion he saw Logan approaching, wiping what looked to be grease off of his hands with a dark pink rag.

"Hey Kent, couldn't sleep in a strange place?" The older man asked once he was close enough to talk comfortably.

Clark shook his head no.

"It's not that, we get up early on the farm. I guess it's just habit now."

Stuffing the automotive rag in his back pocket, Logan joined him on the cliff side.

"I guess you can take the boy off the farm and all that...eh."

Clark didn't bother responding to the rhetorical statement. Instead asking a question of his own.

"What about you? You smell more like a garage than a barn."

Logan raised an eyebrow at that. Normally smells were something he noticed, not other people.

"I've been working on my bike. I don't need as much sleep as other people."

Normal people...he didn't say it but Clark heard it none the less. To his surprise Clark found it strangely comforting to hear someone else express that sentiment. It almost made him feel like he wasn't alone. The temptation was there to tell the other man the truth, but he wasn't ready for that yet. Thinking about it did remind him of something Xavier had said. Normally Clark wouldn't push others about their private lives but he was feeling isolated and needed to make some connection with someone.

"The professor told me that you have no memory of your life before fifteen years ago...do you ever wonder if you might have family out there somewhere? Someone who might miss you or be looking for you?"

It was a deeply personal question and just asking it made Clark uncomfortable, but it was something that often ate at his thoughts and the silent intimacy of early morning somehow made it okay to ask.

Logan didn't take offence at the intrusive question, he could tell from the way Clark held himself as he asked that it meant more to the boy than idle gossip.

"I don't know kid but I doubt it, I'm older than I look. Likely any family I had is long since dust. I guess that's why I'm here. I like being alone but even I occasionally need other people around."

He gave the kid a measuring look.

"What about you kid? That question didn't sound like idle curiosity."

Clark seriously debated whether he should say anything but decided part of his story would be safe enough to share.

"I'm adopted. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if there are others like me somewhere. Don't get me wrong, my parents are great but...I still wonder."

Logan wasn't the touchy feely type, but it seemed appropriate at the moment so he lay a comforting hand on the taller boy's shoulder.

"Don't sweat it kid, there are more than two dozen people just like you back there in the mansion."

Clark didn't say anything, he wasn't ready to correct the misconception that he was another mutant.

****

Saturday morning may have begun quietly but by ten o'clock it was jumping like a mad house. Exactly what one would expect given that there are sixteen super powered teens in residence, made even worse by the fact that school started in two days and they all wanted to make the most of their last days of freedom.

It was more than Clark was used to or comfortable with. Watching the others openly display their abilities was causing him to have mixed feelings. On the one hand he found their relaxed even playful attitude about it appealing, luring him to relax his guard. On the other hand after spending his entire life hiding what he could do, even before he knew of his unusual origins, it felt reckless, wrong even. It was all a little overwhelming to the small town boy and he felt the need to escape, so he decided to go for a walk and investigate this Bayville his parents had sent him to.

Being the overly responsible sort he didn't just leave, instead seeking out one of the adults to inform them of his plans. He had heard Logan's bike leaving early that morning and he had yet to see the Professor, he found Ororo reading in what appeared to be a sun room.

"Ms Monroe."

Looking up from her book, Ororo looked at the tall boy. "Yes Clark, is there something you need?"

"No, I'm going for a little walk around town. You know, get the lay of the land. If I'm going to be spending the next three years here I figure I should get to know my way around."

"Would you like to see if any of the others would like to go as well? It is Saturday, I am sure several of them already have plans to hang out. I don't think they would mind including you."

"No. I just...look, this is all just a bit much to take in all at once. I figure if I take it in one piece at a time, it won't be so overwhelming. I think I would like to get to know the 'normal' parts, like the new town, before I join the others in madness and mayhem."

Ororo looked at him, trying to decide how she should handle this. It wasn't like she could refuse to let him leave the mansion, he wasn't a prisoner here. She was uncomfortable with the way he added the qualifier of 'if' when talking about staying at the institute. She wasn't psychic like Jean or the Professor, but she could tell from his tone and body language that he didn't think he would be staying through the rest of high school.

With a small sigh, she said "Alright Clark. We will be eating dinner at seven, please be back by then and here, take this." She held out her cell phone. "The number for the Institute is in its memory, along with those of Logan and several of the students. If you need anything please don't hesitate to call."

Clark wanted to refuse, argue that he didn't need it but decided that accepting the phone would be a small concession, one not worth the time trying to dissuade her. So he took the phone and with a muttered promise to be back by seven, he headed out the front door and across the grounds. Several of the other students saw him leave but paid him no mind. Reaching the front gate Clark found it closed. Deciding it wouldn't hurt and after a quick check to make sure no one was around, Clark took an easy leap over the gate and started down the drive towards the road. Thanks to Chloe he had a print out map of the town and surrounding area. From it he knew downtown Bayville was a little over two miles away. He could have made the trip in less than a minute, but since he had time to kill and nothing better to do with it, he decided to keep his pace to that of a normal human.

****

Living on a working farm Clark wasn't used to having this much time to waste just wandering and he was making the most of it. Even traveling at a leisurely pace he still managed to hit all of the town's high points before four o'clock. Well, all except the headquarters of the local swingers club. Tempting, but no.

He may have extra terrestrial origins but Clark was still a teenager and inevitably his course took him to the Bayville mall, something Smallville didn't have.

It was Saturday and the end of summer so the mall was filled to capacity with teens trying to milk each hour for all it was worth. Back in Smallville he knew they would all be up at Crater Lake. That would have included him if Pete and Chloe were still around. Thinking about his absent friends drove home the fact that he was now alone among strangers.

Deciding that he'd had enough of people watching at the mall, Clark was hurrying to finish his late lunch when a shadow fell over his small table. Looking up he found what he was already thinking of as the terrible trio, Lois flanked by her minions Kitty and Jubilee.

"Hey Smallville, didn't expect to see you here." Sitting down at his table in the food court, Lois helped herself to some of his fries. "Do they even have malls in Hicksville?"

He was giving her that look that said 'Go away kid you bother me', but either she missed his subtle cues or she chose to ignore them.

"Well then, you should look upon this as a growing experience, a chance to get off the farm and out into the real world. Who knows, you might even escape the curse of plaid."

Any response Clark might have made was interrupted by a delighted squeal from Kitty. The petite brunette was practically bouncing in her seat.

"Hey look, there's Rogue!"

Turning, the others saw the Goth girl walking down the hall alone. She looked bored, or maybe in pain, but with her normal expression it was hard to tell.

"I think this is the first time she has left the mansion since I got back. Sorry to bail on you guys, but I'm gonna go see if I can cheer her up. That girl has so got to come out of her shell." Grabbing a fry of her own, Kitty left their table practically skipping towards the other girl.

When Kitty called out to her Rogue affected a resigned look, as if she was prepared to endure something unpleasant, but Clark's senses were a little better than most and he could tell she really was happy to see the smaller girl. He remembered Logan saying that no one likes to be alone all of the time. Looking at the two girls still sharing his table he mentally added 'just some of the time'.

Jubilee was growing a little uncomfortable, she recognized the signs that Clark wanted to be alone. Not Lois though, she just barreled right on ahead with all guns blazing.

"Well Smallville, how do you like the big city so far?"

Clark was careful to keep his voice pleasantly neutral, the way he always did when someone was annoying him.

"Bayville isn't really any bigger than Smallville Lois, just a little more frivolous."

She totally ignored his subtle barb. "True, but you know what they say. All work and no play makes Clarkie a boring date. Come on Smallville, learn to live a little. Sometimes you just have to relax, put on your best dress and go to town. The cows won't get jealous, I promise."

The way she was smiling at him was dangerous, threatening to slip in past all of his carefully guarded boundaries. The girl just didn't know how to take 'no' for an answer.

****


	4. Chapter 4 First Impressions

Chapter 3: First Impressions

Clark's first impression of Bayville high was that there were fewer trucks and more BMWs than in Smallville. Oh, there was the usual mix of subcompacts, sedans and mom's old minivan, even a few pick ups, but it was clear few of these kids lived and worked on a farm. According to Chloe's research the dominant employers in the area were Infimed and Welch Allyn subsidiaries, manufacturers and developers of medical equipment. This meant that while Bayville had the usual mix of laborers and small business owners, there was a disproportionately large number of professionals and tech specialists. Some doctors and the usual mix of science types, but mostly graduates from places like MIT. There were also a lot of upper management types and lawyers, the type a company needs when they know they will be spending time dealing with a medical ethics board and the patent office. All of this together added up to higher GPAs and a greater concentration of wealth.

Clark couldn't do much about gathering more wealth, but maybe he should bring up his own GPA. In his efforts not to stand out Clark kept three dice that he used to determine how many points to miss on any given test or assignment. Rolling them and ignoring any ones, he would add the results together then intentionally miss whatever questions seemed most suitable to achieve that grade. This meant that he never scored lower than a B-. If he lost one of the dice his grades would go up to a minimum B+. In Bayville that might help him blend in better, something to consider.

Speaking of BMWs, Clark took a long step away from the one he just climbed out of and further from the driver that went with it, Duncan. He now understood why Scott so disliked this 'Duncan' and he was more than a little insulted at being compared to Jean's boyfriend. He couldn't help wondering how a girl like Jean could be dating this...prick. Wasn't she supposed to be a telepath?

As if to belie his thoughts she gave the quarterback a quick kiss, then hooked her arm through Clark's.

"Come on Clark, I'll show you the way to the administrative office."

She was dragging him towards the school, her eyes on the doors but Clark glanced back long enough to see a scowl of displeasure on Duncan's face. It was a look that promised him trouble in the future.

'Great' Clark thought to himself, 'not even here one full day and I already have two jealous boyfriends on my case.'

He had avoided Jean while at the mansion, deciding that the easiest way to deal with Scott was not to. He would have avoided the issue with Duncan too but Storm asked Jean to help him settle in at school and that unfortunately included catching a ride in Duncan's 'chariot'. He was sorely tempted to join the football team and take the wind out of the older boy's sails. After all, it wasn't like his father was here to tell him 'no'.

A sharp tug from the slender girl in front of him drew Clark's thoughts back from the precipice of rebellion and onto his first day at a new school. The smile she gave him was straight off the cover of a magazine. The smile he gave in return looked like he had just eaten lunch in the school cafeteria.

She took him to the administrative office where she turned him over to the school secretary while she went to class.

****

Clark's first day at school wasn't anything to write home about, though he did write Chloe. Careful to exclude any uncomfortable details, he told her about his first day at Bayville high. He intentionally failed to say much about the Xavier institute. He knew she would get on his case about that, her reporters instincts would catch his omission, but he really didn't have anything to write yet that wasn't incriminating. Give it a few more days and he should have something to tell her that didn't involve mutants.

E-mail to Chloe finished and having nothing better to do with his time, Clark got out his text books and started reading. He was half way through his history book when Logan entered his and Scott's room with a knock.

"Hey Kent, you can get back to your homework later. Right now there's some business we need to take care of."

Not offering further explanation, or even waiting for Clark to respond, the feral haired man turned and exited the room. Putting away his book Clark followed his height challenged instructor down the hall. Logan didn't say another word until they entered the mansion's garage.

"Here kid. Put this on." He threw Clark a motorcycle helmet before leading the way to a large Kawasaki dirt bike. Straddling it, he kick started the engine.

"Don't you need a helmet?!" Clark asked in a near shout while strapping his own on.

"Built in!" Logan answered, tapping his temple with a stiff finger. "Get on!"

Clark climbed on behind the smaller man and with a crackling roar the bike left the garage. Ten minutes later Logan parked the bike in front of a simple gate blocking access to a narrow dirt road. Getting off the bike Logan produced a ring of keys and proceeded to unlock the gate.

"You won't need the helmet anymore kid, just hang it there on the fence post."

Doing as directed, Clark gazed down the dirt road and back into the trees.

"What's back there?"

Pushing the gate open, Logan answered over his shoulder.

"Nothing. This is a logging road, it just loops through the woods. He pushed the bike through the gate, then set to closing it again. "This land belongs to Xavier, we use it for training." That done he climbed back aboard the bike but waved Clark off.

"We know you can run kid, Chuck wants to know how fast. This road makes a three mile circuit through the woods, let's see what you can do."

Starting the bike, Logan gave Clark a nod, rapping the engine in anticipation.

Giving Logan a last look, Clark turned to face the road. After a moments hesitation, he took off.

According to the speedometer Logan was doing sixty and rapidly falling behind. The rough surface of the road kept him from pushing the bike faster but clearly did little to hold back Clark. They had gone a little over half way around the loop when they came across a tree fallen across the road. Logan was only slightly surprised when he witnessed Clark leap over the fallen tree, clearing ten feet. Unfortunately the bike couldn't do the same without the benefit of a ramp. Logan pulled to a stop, the drop in engine noise alerting Clark who raced back to stand on the other side of the tree fall.

Propping the bike up on its jack stand, Logan inspected the fallen tree. The tree appeared healthy enough and the leaves hadn't curled yet so it hadn't been down for more than a day. It hadn't been felled by age or disease. A closer look at the base where the trunk had been severed turned up evidence that the tree had been burned clean through and not by a natural fire. Clearly the work of one of the kids. They were supposed to clean up after themselves but he wasn't surprised to find they hadn't.

"Come on Kent, give me a hand with this."

Logan returned to the side of the bike, figuring that between the two of them they could lift it over the trunk of the tree. When Clark didn't materialize on the other side of the machine he turned to prod the boy, not at all expecting the sight before him. Instead of coming to help him with the weight of the bike, Clark had his arms wrapped around the trunk of the tree and with no sign of strain lifted it upright from the ground. Looking around the teen asked "Where should I put it?"

****

Charles Xavier sat at his desk going over a small stack of satellite photos with a magnifying glass. On the desk next to his left arm was half a glass of water and an open bottle of aspirin. He had spent the morning working with Cerebro, continuing his search for any sign of Magneto but all he could say for certain was that he had found no evidence his one time friend was still on the American continent. He couldn't even be sure of that, not having any way to test whether or not increasing the machines sensitivity would actually pierce the other man's defenses. So far all he had to show for his efforts were a splitting headache, high blood pressure and Clark. He knew how he felt about the headaches but he was still unsure what to make of young Mr. Kent.

He was confident of his decision to bring the boy here to the institute. His presence was just another expression of Xavier's own ideology, the belief that people could overcome their fear of those who are different. He held no doubt that his students would accept Clark, in spite of his alien origins. Instead it seemed that the fears that were getting in the way were Clark's. He knew from Martha and Jonathan that they had been hiding their son's secrets for more than a decade. How was he to convince the boy to turn his back on a lifetime of caution and take a chance on being accepted?

Normally he would recruit both Jean and Scott to help. He didn't have to be psychic to recognize the low level of animosity between the two boys though, there would be no help there. He did ask Jean to try and hopefully the gregarious red head would be able to draw Clark out of his shell. With his inability to understand even the simplest elements of the boy's mind he was reduced to a wait and see approach. He sincerely hoped his young protégé was up to the task.

In the meantime he had asked Logan to evaluate the boy's physical gifts, starting with his speed. He could sense Logan approaching his office and with a mental call invited his old friend to enter without knocking, which he did.

Walking up to the professor's desk Logan gave the room a quick once over out of forgotten habit, his eyes stopping on the half empty bottle of aspirin. Picking it up and double checking the label, he gave his friend a look of concern.

"You need to take better care of yourself Chuck. You won't be a help to anyone if you burn yourself out searching for someone who may be dead already."

Putting down his magnifying glass, Xavier rubbed his temples in an effort to relieve the pressure.

"We never found a body Logan. No, I am quite sure that Eric is still alive and even now planning his next step. The lose of asteroid M is only a set back, not the end of his efforts to push mutant supremacy."

He took a sip of water, wetting his throat which was dry from disuse having spent most of the day alone with Cerebro.

"My fear is that his recent lose will only make him more desperate, more willing to take drastic measures. He might even move against the students here at this school. I would prefer to find him before he is ready to take action. Now, tell me about your exercise with Mr. Kent."

"Well, it certainly was enlightening Chuck. I was going sixty and the boy was still leaving me behind. If I had to guess he was doing at least eighty, maybe faster. I asked him about it and he told me when he was twelve his father clocked him at thirty five. It seems he's getting faster as he gets older. If this continues he might one day compete with Pietro for the title of fastest. That isn't everything Charles. We found a tree laying across the road and without any sign of effort, Clark picked it up. The thing had to be forty feet long and he was packing it around like firewood. When we visited the farm there was an old tractor in the barn. It took a little prodding but he finally admitted that when it broke down in the field he carried it back to the barn. That thing has to way several ton and he just toted it back from the back forty and put it up on stands. What's more, I ran him around for twenty minutes and the kid didn't even break a sweat. I'm starting to think this kid may be the strongest one here. I hate to think what might have happened if Magneto had found him first."

"I don't believe that is something we need to fear, Clark was not raised to support the kinds of actions Eric is promoting. Besides, given Eric's attitudes about certain things he would have been more likely to try and kill Clark than to recruit him."

Xavier turned from his desk to stare out the window, his mind racing down multiple paths.

"Unlike most of our students Clark's powers are not new to him and he has been hiding them for a long time. Long enough that it has become engrained habit, a habit that will prove hard to break."

He turned back to Logan.

"If we push him too hard he will retreat and we will have failed in our mandate. Work with him, help him develop and accept his abilities, but don't push him to open up. Clark has reason to be afraid and it will take time and care to earn his trust. It is my hope that Clark will prove the validity of my dream, but he could easily prove that Eric is right, that humanity is doomed to be divided into armed camps lashing out against everyone who is not a part."

"You're talking in riddles Chuck. Clark is strong yes, but what makes him so important? Especially if Magneto wouldn't want him."

Xavier looked Logan directly in the eye as he answered, more than a little regret in his voice.

"I'm sorry old friend, but that isn't my secret to tell. I'm asking you to trust me, Clark is important and not because of the power he may come to wield. In a way he is the ultimate test of our belief in the peaceful unification of humanity. A test we could easily fail."

Author's Notes

Yes bringing Lois Lane into the story is a stretch, even more than Clark, but while I never cared for her character in the movies I do like the way she was portrayed in the last of WB's Smallville and in fan fiction so I chose to include her in much the same capacity. I gave her a mutant power that I felt fit with the way her character was portrayed. It will be developed more as I go along until it comes to resemble another X-Men Character from the comics. You will have to wait to find out who.

In another stretch, I have plans to bring in Chloe and Lionel Luther at about the same time. I can't leave Smallville entirely out of the story and anyway, I've been reviewing the X-Men cartoon on the net and it doesn't give me much to work with at this point being too character specific.

A discrepancy was pointed out in my travel time from Smallville to Bayville. I could excuse it by pointing out that I have no idea where in Kansas Smallville is (until the WB version Metropolis was never even in Kansas), or Bayville. Smallville could be anywhere within that big square and Bayville could be along the Great Lakes, the St Laurence, or as I placed it the Atlantic ( which is the farthest away of the options ), anywhere with a coastline. I could explain that I don't know what it is like driving in New England. The last time I was there was in 93' and that was after two days and nights in a moving vehicle, my memories of the drive are very fuzzy. I could explain that out here we don't drive at 60mph, but at 75 to 85 and if you don't like getting passed 90. From where I'm sitting right now I could go to Las Vegas Nevada, Tri-Cities Washington, Sacramento California or Great Falls Montana, all in nine hours or less. If I start early I can reach Mexico before the sun comes up again. I could plead ignorance or a difference in experience, but the truth is I based the travel time on my desire to have the Kents drop Clark off on Xavier's doorstep and then leave, all in one day. This story, like my other, is an experiment in writing, posted with the hope of getting a little feed back. If I were to rewrite it I would attempt to correct this and many other mistakes. Maybe if it turns out well, I will rewrite and repost corrected versions. For now I am still stumbling in the dark.

I apologize for this chapter being so short, but my attempts at writing this week have been...difficult.

Thanks for the feed back.


	5. Chapter 5 Menace

_Chapter 4: Menace_

_Metropolis wasn't the biggest city in the country as most people would see it, the megalopolis of Los Angeles spread over many more miles in a seemingly endless sea of rooftops, but it was the densest with only the big apple and Gotham for true competition. This meant that there were more people living squeezed together than in any other place outside of Manhattan, or as is usually the case, on top of each other. While Los Angeles may spread as far as the eye can see, Metropolis didn't allow the eye to see very far before the view was obstructed by some towering monolith of glass and steel and currently the tallest such tower was the Luthor Tower. At ninety stories tall it was shorter than its cousin in Chicago, unless you counted the numerous levels hidden under the ground, levels not known to the general populace or recorded in city hall, but it still stood like a Goliath among its neighbors. _

_It may be said that business and trade centered on Wall Street, but what happened on Wall Street was often dictated by what was decided within Luthor Tower. There are other financial empires of note in the country, such as Queen or Wayne Industries, but neither were empires in the true sense of the word. The difference between a kingdom and an empire is that an empire continues to grow through the, often hostile, envelopment of other kingdoms. Wal-Mart may have gained the nick name of the Evil Empire but Luthor Corp was the dominant share holder, just not on paper or anywhere a government anti-trust case could find proof._

_At the top of that intimidating tower stood the suite and private office of its lord and master, Lionel Luthor. Made up of three full stories Lionel's private domain was larger than most buildings and it still wasn't large enough to contain all of his secrets and misdeeds. In the lowest of those three floors, in an office that took up a full corner of the tower behind a large plate glass window facing east stood the man himself, Lionel Luthor. Lionel had been in business for a long time, longer than he had used the name of Luthor even._

_At just over six feet tall he wasn't especially large in stature but held an aura of menace greater than men twice his size. Even psychopaths had been known to cower beneath his icy gaze. He wore the finest clothes available and always in a conservative no nonsense style, jewelry being limited to one ring of ancient appearance worn on his right hand. His face was handsome in a lean and hungry way, with his long hair framing his leonine features like a mane._

_The sun was setting behind him casting the shadow of his tower, and thus himself, like a dark knife through the heart of the city reaching all the way to the harbor. Lying open on the desk behind him was a file on his son and heir, Lex. He had sent Lex to take command of a minor piece of his empire in Smallville Kansas, a good place for a young cub to cut his teeth in the business world. It was a place he felt the headstrong boy could do no harm, he was wrong. His son had barely entered the area when he managed to land his car in the river and himself in the hospital. If he wasn't his son Lex would already be dead, lost to a watery grave. He held high expectations for his son, Lex had so much potential, unfortunately the boy took too much after his mother. Lionel had made the mistake of marrying for emotional reasons and for five years he had known a measure of human happiness, it didn't last. His wife died at her own hand, their second son at the hands of the first, and Lionel was reminded of the human weakness he had long sought to weed out. It was a lesson he vowed never to forget again._

"_Mr. Luthor."_

_That was Dr. Arthur Hansen, a genius in his prime Arthur was normally a man of unmitigated arrogance but in Lionel's presence everyone was the nervous type. The Dr. Like all of his fellows was hired for his brilliance and moral ambiguity. He was controlled through a delicate balance of fear and his own appetites and ambition._

"_I have the report on the Orpheus Project."_

_The Orpheus Project was the follow up to the earlier Adam Project, something started before Dr. Hansen was ever born._

_Receiving a commanding look from his employer the Dr. Placed a computer memory stick on the desktop of smoky black glass. It was a sixteen gig chip and packed to the gills with data safely locked behind the highest encryption known to man, one that greatly exceeded the one hundred and forty eight bit limit set by the government. Even then it only contained half of the files, without the other half located on Lionel's own mainframe it would seem like meaningless dribble._

_Taking up the memory stick, Luthor pulled open a shallow drawer in his desk exposing a row of computer ports. Plugging the stick into the relevant slot, he used the virtual keyboard in the glass of his desktop to open the desired files. After the computer compiled the separate pieces into a useable form, he viewed the result on a forty two inch screen that dropped down from the ceiling behind the waiting doctor. It was a list of files, identified only by number and letter combinations. Opening several at random, he displayed their contents in floating windows. Each contained all of the known information on a single individual between the ages of thirteen and twenty one, along with genetic data. _

_The Orpheus Project was the largest he had ever initiated. Started in the late eighties and continued into the nineties, it had involved nearly every one of his company's long reaching tentacles. First came the media outlets and news agencies under his often hidden control. They sensationalized several child kidnapping cases across the country, spreading an almost irrational fear among parents from Maine to California. The next involved numerous public figures, vocally calling out for new and tighter legislation to ensure the safety of future generations. The culmination of all this fervor did not bare fruit in the halls of Congress or state legislatures though, it occurred in malls, shopping centers and public parks and libraries. All across the country 'non profit volunteer groups' offered to create identification cards for concerned parents at no charge. The fearful masses flocked to have their children photographed, finger printed and a DNA sample taken to ease identification if they were ever abducted by some murderous stranger. What no one realized, including the idealistic fools spending their weekends providing the service, was that the contents of each file was being sent and compiled at satellite labs around the country. Here each DNA sample was checked for certain markers, the signs of advancing human evolution, the holy grail of science that Lionel had chased for so many years._

_Now after more than a decade of painstaking work, long before those fearful old men in Washington could even bring up the topic in the halls of government, Lionel Luthor held in his hands the most complete registry of mutants ever known to man._

_Looking at one of those randomly chosen files, a teenage girl with short blonde hair looking back, a rapacious smile spread across his sharp edged features._

'_Hello Miss Sullivan, I can't wait to make your acquaintance.' He thought to himself._

_Casting his eyes back to the fearful man standing on the other side of his desk Lionel gave the order, his low pitched voice devoid of all traces of human warmth._

"_Initiate the Lazarus Project. It is time for our sleepers to be awakened."_

_His orders received, Dr. Hansen did his best not to run as he fled his master's presence._

_Author's Notes:_

_This chapter is short but it seemed to stand separate from everything else happening in the story at the time, so I posted it as is._

_I know WB's Smallville placed Metropolis within sight of the windmill in some farmer's field, but I decided to go with the Delaware location next to New York and across the bay from Gotham City._


	6. Chapter 6 Mutants

Chapter 5: Mutants

It was Wednesday morning, the beginning of Clark's fifth full day at the institute and his third day at Bayville High. As was his habit he awoke early, around four, and having two hours to kill before the others roused he decided to spend it finishing his text books.

After that was done he wrote off a quick e-mail to Chloe.

Clark's prediction had proven true and Chloe had nailed him on the lack of details concerning the institute and its students. That was okay though, after four days he finally had enough to write about that didn't include giving away any state secrets. He was paying more attention to what he shouldn't write then to what he actually was, so when he glanced back over the letter he was amazed to discover how long it ended up being. Scanning back over it, making sure he hadn't slipped up and mentioned anything he shouldn't, he marveled at how much he had to write about. He was also a little dismayed at how much of it was dedicated to the new banes of his existence; Duncan Mathews and Lois Lane. It made him sound like a whiner and he seriously considered deleting the whole thing but decided against it. This was Chloe after all, she knew him better than he knew himself and wouldn't be surprised or disappointed at his venting. On the other hand she would know if his letter was lacking in personal information and the venting definitely qualified as personal. He was afraid to trust her with his greatest secret, so deciding to trust her with everything else he hit send. He really hoped he wouldn't come to regret it.

He started hearing the sounds of the house coming to life while still writing his letter, so after he finished he left the institute's small but extremely advanced computer lab and went down to the kitchen to see what was for breakfast. Ms. Monroe insisted that they start their days with more than just a bowl of cold cereal, instead she would prepare a large and proper breakfast and though it wasn't his mother's cooking, it was a return to familiar routine and a source of comfort for him.

Entering the dinning area he stumbled back in surprise as...something...bounced off of his chest and back over the large table to hang from the light fixture overhead. It was smaller than him, blue, covered in what appeared to be fur, with a long skinny tail and...an accent?

"Chill out man, it vas just a joke!" It cried.

"A joke!" Evan Daniels shouted back. "I'll show you a joke! How 'bout I tie your furry butt to a flag pole?! Does that sound funny to you?!"

It was at that point that Scott entered the dinning room from the kitchen.

"The both of you calm down! Kurt, stop hanging on the chandelier before you rip it out of the ceiling."

The dangling ornament being addressed disappeared from the light fixture in a puff of black smoke and what smelled like brimstone, before reappearing behind his nominal leader keeping the older boy between him and his dark skinned classmate.

"Calm down?!" The black skinned boy with the incongruous blonde hair barked back, his voice seething. "Look what that furry little rodent did to my board!"

Evan held up his skateboard for Scott's inspection, his hands shaking with repressed anger. Looking at the board in question, Scott could see that it appeared to have been spray painted with pink and yellow paint using stencils of...Hello Kitty?

"Relax dude, is just vater colors. It vill vash off. I promise." Kurt held his three fingered hands out in a placating gesture towards his friend.

"You messed with my ride dude. You don't mess with another man's ride."

Evan's voice was much calmer than before and everything probably would have been alright, if Scott didn't feel the need to keep trying to control the situation. It probably had something to do with his being frustrated himself after his discussion with the professor the day before regarding the need to keep the existence of mutants a secret from the general population.

"Keep your cool Evan, it's just a skateboard." He said and the results were both predictable and immediate.

"Just a skateboard! How would you like it if I tagged your car?! Would it be okay then?!"

"Now wait a minute. A car is not the same thing as a skateboard..."

The verbal sparring continued but Clark wasn't paying it any mind. Hadn't been since entering the room, all of his attention being focused on a certain furry blue figure with a tail and how naturally everyone was interacting with it. It was Kurt Wagner, if the similarities in the face hadn't been enough to clue him in to the other's identity then the voice surely would have. He knew it was the German boy who tried so hard to make him feel welcome but yesterday he looked normal, just like everyone else and today he...didn't.

Clark was gawking and he knew it, so he shouldn't have been surprised when Kitty called him on it but he was. He had been so distracted by the other boy's appearance that he hadn't noticed her entering the room behind him.

"It is so rude to stare Clark."

"I...but...he's blue..." Clark sounded like an idiot, unfortunately to the others he was starting to sound like a bigot as well.

"So?" Kurt asked, getting into his face. "You got a problem vith that?"

Clark was thrown for a loop by what he was seeing and the casual way everyone was acting, like it was nothing. Staring at the others in the room, disbelief written across his face in big letters, he asked "Don't you?"

The others were staring back, anger building and things might have gotten ugly if not for the timely intervention of Professor Xavier.

"No Clark, we don't."

Rolling further into the room, Xavier used his chair to create a barrier between Clark and the others in an effort to head off any hostilities.

"We know that in spite of his appearance, he is still Kurt. We accept him for who he is."

Reaching out he took hold of Clark's wrist, using physical contact to enhance his efforts to make a connection for the boy with his words.

"We accept each other as family, differences and all."

Clark was looking at the professor but he wasn't seeing him, his mind was too busy trying to come to terms with what he was being told. Xavier watched, hopeful, then he saw the walls go up in those blue eyes. Hiding away his emotions, Clark used good manners as a form of defense. A barrier between himself and the world.

"I'm sorry Professor, I need to wash my hands before breakfast." That said he disappeared in search of a sink and some soap.

The other students watched him go in disgusted disbelief.

"Is he for real?" Kitty summed up what everyone was thinking.

Xavier sighed. "Don't misread what Clark is saying. It isn't his intention to offend."

That earned a snort from Scott, he had already endured more than his share of Clark's inoffensive manner.

Xavier tried to put it in a way they would understand.

"Kurt, do you remember when you first came here and I gave you the image inducer? Do you remember how you never wanted to take it off? You would have even slept with it on if possible."

"Yes Professor, I remember, but vhat does that have to do vith Clark? He looks normal."

"Yes Kurt, he looks normal but he isn't and he knows it."

He turned his chair to more easily address the room.

"You have to understand, Clark has been hiding what he is...who he is for a long time now. He finds it hard to believe that others will accept him because he is different."

Now it was Scott who became the voice of the group.

"I don't understand Professor. Why would he believe we won't accept him. I mean, we're all mutants."

Xavier was looking towards where he could sense Clark.

"Yes Scott, we are..." His voice trailed off, lost in thought. He roused himself, returning his attention to his students.

"I ask you to be patient with Clark. Remember what it was like for each of you when you first found out you were different. There are issues involved of which you are all unaware, things that make this difficult for him. Please understand, Clark won't hold our differences.." Here he gestured towards the blue furred Nightcrawler. "against us. It is up to us to convince him that we will do the same."

****

Clark exited through the front doors of the mansion, adjusting his school backpack on his shoulders. He saw Scott's red convertible tear off down the drive, tires chirping on the black top. Kitty, Kurt and for a change Evan were in the car with the bespectacled boy, all on their way to school. They had been giving him the cold shoulder at breakfast so bad that everyone noticed and now they were all avoiding him, even the students who weren't there and didn't know why.

"Clark, wait!"

Well, he sighed with regret when he heard her call, not all of them.

It was Jean, he had hoped to avoid her and all that came with her.

"Duncan just called and he'll be here any minute. Come on, you can catch a ride with us."

Standing beside her on the front step now Clark bit his tongue, too polite to tell her what Duncan could do with his ride. He had intended to run to school, walking when necessary and if he was late then so be it. The little rebel in him smirked at the thought that if his grades began to suffer enough his parents might summon him home where he belonged. It was quickly becoming apparent to him that his coming to Bayville was an experiment that was doomed to fail. Not that he ever had any doubts.

Jean on the other hand, wasn't willing to accept that. The professor asked her to help Clark fit in. She didn't understand why Scott was being so hostile to the new guy, it wasn't like Clark was rude or acted like a jerk, but she wasn't about to fail the professor. She wasn't there to witness the events in the dinning room that morning, only arriving in time to hear the professor's comments to the others, comments she took to heart.

"Look, there he is now." Jean was pointing down the drive to where he could see Duncan's black BMW convertible approaching, the big blonde wearing his ever present letterman's jacket. He was also wearing a scowl as he saw Jean standing next to Clark.

Clark saw the other boy's lips moving in a curse when Jean placed her hand on Clark's arm in a friendly gesture. Fortunately for Clark's tender ears the car radio was blasting, drowning out whatever the jock was saying.

Clark did not need this today. He was trying to figure out how to escape as Jean pulled him towards the now waiting car, when help came from an unexpected quarter.

Lois Lane on a Vespa scooter, the annoying buzz of its small motor announcing her arrival, pulled onto the sidewalk between them and the BMW. It was a lesson in contrasts, scooter and car, as she blocked their way.

Jubilee pulled around the other side of the car, her scooter pink to Lois' gray. She looked a little uneasy in her bright red helmet, her eyes darting from Lois to Clark, tongue darting out to wet dry lips.

"Hey Smallville." Lois drawled out, all smiles and over the top exuberance. "You aren't trying to duck out on us, are you?" She patted the seat behind her, a clear invitation.

"No, Lois..." Clark didn't know what she was up to but a quick glance at Duncan glaring from behind the wheel, rap bellowing out of his car's speakers, was enough to make the decision easy for him. His movements a little jerky from nervousness he climbed on the back of the Vespa, his hands moving to Lois' waist gripping her lightly for safety.

Lois addressed Jean from under her blue helmet, the thumb of her left hand pointing towards Duncan.

"I hope you don't mind us stealing Smallville Jean, but I know how much you and ball boy treasure your time alone."

Duncan sat in his car, mixed emotions boiling under the surface. On the one hand the upstart army brat had insulted him, again. On the other she was offering him a chance to get rid of the new institute nerd, clearing the way for some personal time with the most desired girl in school. His decision really wasn't that hard to reach.

"Yea Jean. The farm boy and the army brat are perfect for each other. Let's not interfere with young love."

A flustered Clark tried to sputter out a denial of any relationship between him and Lois, but she cut him off with her own reply.

"Gee Dunk, I never knew you could be so romantic. I always took you for more of a back seat kind of guy."

Not giving him a chance to retaliate she pushed off, driving the scooter as hard and fast as it would go down the drive.

Jubilee gave Jean an apologetic shrug before following.

Jean watched the three pull away, not sure if this was a good thing or not.

Duncan watched them pull away, anger simmering under the surface. When he looked over to see Jean watching as well it threatened to boil over.

"Jean, you getting in or what?" He said, his tone harsh.

Brought out of her reverie Jean smiled at him, somehow managing to turn a deaf ear to his rude tone. She climbed into the car, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

It never occurred to Duncan to get out and open the door for her, he wasn't that kind of guy. She was there for his pleasure, being with him was her reward.

****

The two scooters were racing down the road as Clark considered what to say to Lois. Even as her aggressive driving forced him to tighten his hold on her waist, making him nervous and excited in equal measure. He wasn't used to being this close to a girl, not even Chloe.

For Lois this was a good morning. She had a good night's sleep, something interesting happened at the mansion that morning, a mystery to solve, and she got a chance to mock Duncan in front of the scarlet princess. The fact that she was now making Smallville uncomfortable was just the icing on the cake. Yes, it had been a good morning.

Lois is a late sleeper so she missed the events in the dinning room that morning arriving afterwards, but she knew something was up from the uneasy quiet that pervaded the breakfast table that morning and the sidelong looks the original students were giving Clark clued her in that he was somehow responsible.

Curious about what was up but not having the first clue where to look, she used her gift at the dinning room table to review the events of the morning and was surprised to discover that it all happened right there.

Tuning out the sound of silverware on plates, she watched the mornings events play out in her mind, a mental movie. She saw Evan chase Kurt into the room, waving his precious skateboard around in anger. She watched Kurt jump around the room, avoiding the other boy's aborted blows. He tried to leap through the open archway into the hall but ran into Clark's chest, rocking the taller boy back on his heels. Quick as always, Kurt turned the obstacle that was Clark into a springboard, reversing his direction and seeking the high ground. Then Scott came in and tried to play the responsible adult. She was so caught up in the ensuing argument that she missed Kitty's entrance and the comments that started it all, but she witnessed Kurt getting in Clark's face and everything that followed.

She wasn't surprised when most of them didn't understand what the professor was trying to say. Jean and Scott had been at the institute for too long, they've forgotten what it was like to feel like an outsider. As for Kitty and Evan, they had suffered the fear and isolation for maybe two days before Xavier came for them.

She understood because of her father. She never had a problem with her gifts and she had Lucy, but the look in her father's eyes as he declared them all to be freaks who needed to be kept away from 'normal' people, that was pain enough.

If any of them should have understood it was Kurt but she figured his vision was obscured by the depth of his own painful history, blinding him to the lesser difficulties suffered by others. After all, Clark did look normal.

Not to mention tall, dark and handsome.

She stifled that thought before it could grow into anything more, reminding herself that naive farm boys aren't her type.

Traveling along still trying to decide what to say, Clark heard the approaching sound of a motor. One much bigger than the little putters pushing the two Scooters. It was coming from behind and from the sound of it catching up fast.

He shifted a little, looking over Lois' shoulder at her side mirror. He could see the quarter back's BMW, Jean in the passenger seat, growing larger in the glass. Duncan was speeding, not excessively but enough to overtake them. As he grew closer he shifted over into the left lane to pass.

Jubilee was riding behind and to the right, Lois in front and on the inside along the yellow line.

As they passed Jean gave them each a small wave. Behind her where she couldn't see Duncan waved too, just not with all of his fingers.

****

Arriving at the high school they passed Duncan's car in the parking lot but fortunately neither Jean or her beau were in sight having already entered the building.

One of the advantages of riding a scooter was access to otherwise restricted parking, front and center of the lot. The three dismounted the bikes.

After removing their helmets, Lois and Jubilee produced hairbrushes from their bags and set about repairing the damage done by the headgear. Clark never had a helmet his hair being windblown instead. Without the benefit of a brush he ran his fingers through it, trying to restore a little order. He was still struggling unsuccessfully to do so when Lois held her hairbrush up in front of his face, offering him its use.

With a muttered "Thanks", Clark took the brush and quickly fixed the bird's nest on his head.

Taking back the brush, Lois looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"So Smallville, aren't you glad we decided to take pity on you. I can't imagine anyone wanting to catch a ride with Dunk and Jean. Those two together are enough to induce vomiting."

Jubilee giggled at that and even Clark had to smile.

"Yes Lois," he intoned in a voice heavy with sarcasm, bowing his head, hands held before him in supplication. "This unworthy one is most grateful for the timely rescue."

Dropping the sarcasm, replacing it with a teasing lilt. "Still, if you wanted to spend time with me all you have to do is ask." His face split in a large grin, laughter in his voice. "If you want we can even go on that date and hold hands. You did bring it up, Jubilee was there, she heard you."

Lois was working up a good retort, but was cut off by the screech of tires and a whoosh of foul smelling air as a brown jeep came to a hard stop right behind Clark and their bikes. It was Lance Alvers in his pride and joy, with Fred Dukes taking up the entire back seat and the source of the smell, Todd Tolinski more commonly known as Toad, in the passenger seat.

It was Tolinski that led the charge.

Standing up in the open passenger side of the jeep, leaning on the roll cage, he mocked them.

"Hey look! This must be a new member of the geek squad. At least I don't see no other reason to hang out with Xavier's freaks."

Lois shifted targets from Clark to the source of the rude interruption.

"Clark, let me introduce you to the Loserhood. The smelly one is Toad Tolinski. The cargo in back is Fred Pukes."

The jeep rocked violently as the aforementioned Fred rose threateningly to his feet, the roll cage visibly straining in his grip. Something Clark didn't miss, instinctively placing himself between the big man and tiny Lois. Compared to Fred even Clark looked small.

"Fred!" The jeeps driver barked in a voice of authority. "Don't rock my jeep or your walking from now on."

Fred reluctantly returned to his seat, visibly struggling with his temper.

"The name is Dukes."

"Don't mind Lois Fred," the driver's voice thick with dry sarcasm. "she has a pathological need to run off at the mouth."

"Ooh, Alvers. Such a big word. I guess all those years at reform school weren't wasted after all. Speaking of which, hasn't anybody called Family Services on you yet?"

Toad jumped like he expected men in polyester suits to come charging out of the bushes.

"Hey, don't even joke about that." His voice was shaky. He had already endured too many years in foster care and he liked it right where he was.

Lance tried to calm his companion.

"Relax Toad, no one is going to take you and if they try, while then we'll just have to stop them. Ain't that right Fred?"

The big man pounded his fist into the palm of his other hand.

"Yea, I'd like to see them try. No one messes with the Brotherhood."

Lois rolled her eyes.

"Is there a point to all this Alvers, or did you take one look at Clark and decide to come out of the closet?"

Clark grew increasingly nervous. The last thing he needed was to get into a fight at school. Especially if his impression of Fred is accurate and these guys are mutants.

Fortunately Lance has more self control than his friends.

"Can it Lois." He turned to Jubilee. "Where's Kitty?"

"She rode to school with Scott, Kurt and Evan."

A spark of jealousy lit in Alvers' eyes. Seeing it, Lois smirked.

"Your barking up the wrong tree Alvers, she's probably already inside."

He gave Lois the evil eye and without even looking away said "Nice meeting you Clark. If you ever decide to ditch the mouth your welcome to join the Brotherhood. We run our own lives and don't answer to anyone."

Still without once looking at Clark, Lance gunned the gas breaking his tires loose as he pulled away. Clark winced at the loud squeal of rubber on asphalt. His sensitive ears were really going to be missing dirt roads if that was how everyone drove around here.

Brushing the boys off as insignificant, Lois took her brush back from Clark and returned it to her backpack.

"Don't let the rat pack bother you Smallville. Without Mystique their harmless."

"Who's Mystique?" He asked. The fact that there seemed to be another faction of mutants at the school struck him as a cause for concern.

Lois swung her pack over her shoulder.

"From what Kitty says, she's sort of the Brotherhood's version of Storm, only meaner. She's a shape shifter, can turn into nearly anything, even animals. She also used to be the school principal, but now that she's gone the losers have no direction. There reduced to being reform school rejects again. It's pathetic really."

****

William Defoe is a tall boy with a slender build, dark hair, eyes and a light complexion that along with his aristocratic nose marked him as being descended from a noble French family. His fine features, easy going smile and the grace of his movements hinted that here was a future Casanova, but not yet. Right now he was only thirteen years old and his mother dresses him funny. His parents aren't ready to accept that he is growing up yet.

Mr. And Mrs. Defoe were blessed with only one child, they thought he was perfect and lived in fear of losing him. While most of the people in the country were beginning to calm down, they joined ranks with the fearful. Avid watchers of America's Most Wanted, they held the greatest respect for Patrick Walsh and his quest to make the world a safer place for ordinary families. They admired the man, but they didn't want their son to share Adam's fate.

So worried were they that they didn't stop with the creation of an identification card. The Defoes moved to a small town in rural Virginia and now William's father commuted to his job in D.C., an hour each way. The senior Defoe, also named William, felt it was a small price to pay for the security of his family.

It is tragically ironic that sometimes our efforts to protect ourselves and our loved ones spawn the greatest threat.

In spite of being blessed with a handsome face, William is an ordinary boy walking down a small town road to Heath Memorial middle school. It was named after a Revolutionary War officer and the fact that his first name had been William as well struck the Defoes as a good omen.

Having no reason to be watchful, William failed to notice the two men angling to approach him quietly from behind. A plain white GMC delivery van, rust spots spattering the metal behind the tires and the faint discoloration caused by the removal of a company logo marring its sides, came to a stop at the corner in front of him. It came to rest after the stop sign, so far forward that it was blocking the crosswalk and William was debating whether or not to cross behind it when the side door slid open on well greased wheels. The interior was dark, the light from the front windows blocked off by a dividing curtain. William didn't share his parents paranoia, was often embarrassed by it, but he had been raised in awareness of what could happen. He jumped back preparatory to bolting, when the two men behind him grabbed hold and before he could scream he was in the van where two other men waited with chloroform. The van pulled away from the stop sign calm as can be, leaving two men to cross the street to their own waiting sedan.

No one noticed poor William's fate, it wasn't until the school secretary called his mother at home to verify his absence that anyone realized he was gone. With both his parents screaming for action, his mother had to be sedated, the police didn't wait the normal twenty four hours before beginning their search.

Unfortunately it had only taken thirty minutes for the nondescript van to reach a nearby small airport, where two men loaded a locked steamer trunk onto a small two engine plane. By the time his mother had her breakdown William had traveled more than a hundred miles, winging his way North.

Lazarus is beginning to stir.

****

Author's notes:

I know Storm identified Smallville as being near Metropolis in Chapter 2: Arrival, but after Ellen Kuhfeld pointed out the flaws in my travel times for driving back east I decided to do a little research on the locations of Smallville and Metropolis. An effort to avoid making that same mistake again. What I discovered was that Metropolis was once placed in Delaware, with Metropolis to the north and Gotham to the south of NYC. Since Kansas doesn't hold any rivers large enough to accommodate ship traffic and Metropolis definitely had a port, I decided to go with the Delaware location. It fits better with the spirit of the city and creates more distance from Clark's hometown. Just pretend that Storm said it was near Topeka instead.

I said I wouldn't be using Lex Luthor or Lana Lang in this story, yet in Chapter 4: Menace, I introduced Lex in concept along with Lionel. I still have no plans to use him, though he may step up to the plate later if things play out that way. As for Lana, if she does appear it will only be as a background character when Clark visits home.


	7. Chapter 7 First Outing

Chapter 6: First Outing

Clark had only attended Bayville High for two days now and he still hadn't made any new friends. Especially since the only kids he spent any time with, the other students from the institute, were giving him the cold shoulder. The only ones who seemed willing to talk to him were Jean and Lois. In Jean's case that also meant Duncan, so she was a non option. As far as Lois was concerned, time spent with her was time spent on the firing line. The girl was really good at getting under his skin and she took his hints, subtle and not so subtle, that he wanted to be left alone as a personal challenge.

At the end of the school day he decided to just walk back to the mansion and since he wasn't returning to the farm and a list of chores that needed doing, he took his time. Having grown up on a farm he wasn't used to having so much free time, even with the accelerated speed at which he worked on the farm there was always something more that needed to be done. Here all he had to do that night was homework and even that was lightened by the fact he had already done all of the required reading.

Thursday morning he found himself faced again with a choice between riding with Lois or Duncan. Not a hard choice, he rode with Lois and Jubilee. After school he went job hunting. He figured that with nothing else to do he might as well earn some money, do something productive. He was just finding it hard to sit around, especially at Xavier's mansion. He was starting to appreciate Logan's comment about not wanting to be alone all of the time. Here he was surrounded by people but in some ways it was worse than if he had been sitting on an ice cube in the artic. Clark never had many friends but he had Pete and Chloe and he had always had his parents.

Friday morning he skipped breakfast and left early. By the time most of the students were leaving the showers he was halfway to the high school. He left Ms Monroe a note knowing that if he told her he was skipping breakfast in person she would try to talk him out of it. It was just easier to avoid the argument in the first place, so he did.

When he didn't appear at the table for breakfast, Jean looked concerned and Lois curious, but the rest of the students were actually more relaxed without him there. Storm found the developing situation to be very worrying.

After the last student left for school, Storm approached the professor with her concerns. She found Xavier in his study going over the institutes financial business, getting it out of the way before descending to Cerebro and the headaches that would follow.

She entered the room carrying a tea service on a tray. Setting it on a small table to the side of the room, she poured them both a cup before sitting down in front of his desk.

"Charles, I fear we have a problem with Clark and the other students. One that won't go away on its own."

"Yes, I am aware of that. I confess, I didn't expect Clark to have so much difficulty fitting in."

Storm hesitated, she didn't want to say it but felt it was something they needed to consider.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but maybe it would be best if Clark went home. His presence here is causing a disruption and I don't feel it is fair to the others."

Xavier sighed in frustration. He was already debating the wisdom of keeping the Kent boy here, knew the arguments against it by heart. He couldn't argue against the wisdom of sending him home, knew Clark himself would prefer it. He knew the arguments but couldn't ignore the feeling that sending the boy home would foreshadow the failure of all he hoped to accomplish.

"Do you know how many mutants there are in the world?" He asked her, then waited for her answer, letting her know that it wasn't a rhetorical question.

Storm considered his question, unsure of where he was trying to lead her. With a shrug of her shoulders she admitted she didn't know, wondering what it had to do with Clark's presence at the mansion.

"Maybe one in fifty thousand." Xavier told her. "Less than one percent of the population. When the world at large learns of our existence there will be many who will find it difficult to accept us. Many will fear us, seeing us as a threat to 'normal' folk. We've seen it before even among the parents of our own students. Already in the halls of power there are those who are discussing how to deal with the disruption _we_ will create. While no one is seriously considering eliminating us, there are those proposing that we be culled from the general population, placed in colonies were it will not be necessary for us to interact with non mutants. We would for all intents and purposes be prisoners, living our lives in quarantine. They argue that it is unfair for the few, us, to cause so much discord for the vastly larger population of base line humans. How can we argue against such a course if we are as quick to ascribe to the same logic?"

Storm is a student of history and well familiar with earlier attempts to segregate a population through legislation and if necessary force. Every group to try always carried a logical argument explaining why it was necessary for the good of the majority, even Hitler claimed to be serving the greater good. In every instance it always ended in bloodshed and chaos.

"What then would you have us do Charles? The other children are angry with him and Clark himself is only making it worse. I believe he is trying to avoid the problem and the other students."

"Yes, I'm afraid Clark's fear is the source of the problem. Given time and the opportunity I am confident our students would accept him. No, the real question is how to convince Clark to give them the chance."

He sat quietly contemplating the problem, considering possible approaches. An idea occurred to him, it was a small step but at least it would be in the right direction.

"Ororo, what are the students plans for the weekend?"

"Jean has a soccer game, but otherwise there is nothing scheduled. Why Professor?"

He gave her a small smile, looking more relaxed now that he had a plan of action.

"Please tell Logan that I think this weekend would be an excellent time for a training trip, something involving teamwork."

****

When Scott came home from school on Friday he wasn't very happy to find Logan waiting for him. That never bode well.

"Pack a bag Summers, you too Kurt. We're all going on a little training trip this weekend and the bus leaves in an hour."

"What about me?" Evan asked, he couldn't believe he could be so lucky as to be excluded.

"Not this time Daniels. It's just gonna be Scott, Kurt and some of the new kids."

"Aw man, this really bites!" Kurt cried in agony, while Evan did a little victory dance.

"Stow it Elf." Logan walked away, he had more happy students to give the good news.

"Nothing like a weekend in the mountains to put a smile on your face." Even better than that was seeing the looks on their teenage faces when they found out they would be spending Saturday in the woods instead of the mall.

Sometimes life was good.

****

Scott found the professor inside Cerebro. Normally he wouldn't interrupt while Xavier was interfacing with the machine, but right now he was too angry to be so considerate and Logan wasn't giving him much in the way of time.

When the machine signaled Charles that someone was waiting outside the door, his own attention was focused on western Canada, a quick scan and he knew it was an unhappy Scott. It didn't take a mind reader to know why the boy was so upset. He debated leaving him cooling his heels in the hall but decided that an angry Scott would be a useless one.

Shutting down Cerebro and removing the headpiece, Xavier rolled his chair down the extended walk. Opening the round vault door, he found Scott poised to hit the signal button again.

"What can I help you with Scott?" Xavier tried to sound up beat but the sharp pain centered two inches behind his forehead caused him to wince. His work with Cerebro was taking a toll on him and he was seriously considering abandoning the search.

Scott tried to school his emotions, his face returning to a neutral expression, but his voice still held a bitter edge.

"Logan tells me that I'm going on an unscheduled training trip."

It wasn't a question but Xavier knew Scott was expecting a response.

"Yes Scott. I'm sending you and Kurt with some of the new students. We need to get them involved, make them feel like part of the team."

Scott lost his reserve, his face taking on a sour expression.

"Is Clark one of the new students going on this trip?"

Xavier winced again, fingers rubbing his temples. He had hoped Scott would be more mature about this.

"Yes Scott, Clark is going. Along with Rahne and Roberto."

Scott hated to ask but, "Is there any way someone else can go with them? I was hoping to watch Jean play tomorrow."

Could it be that Scott's problem with Clark was actually about Jean? Was all of this because he took her with when speaking to the Kents?

Xavier gave his head a small shake. He sometimes forgot that in spite of their gifts, his students were still little more than children with all of the insecurities and drama that came with the journey to adulthood. He had been so fixated on Clark's uniqueness and his search for Magneto, that he missed what was right in front of his face. He could see now that asking Jean to take Clark under her wing had only served to exasperate the situation. With that realization came the knowledge that this trip was more important than he originally thought.

"Scott, you and Jean were the first students at this institute and I rely heavily upon you both to help with the younger students."

Scott's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I understand that Professor and I want to help but..." He tried a different tact. "You know that Clark doesn't really want to be here? Why force him to be?"

"You may remember Scott that neither did Rogue, Kitty, Evan or even Logan. In time they found their place among us. It is my hope that Clark will as well. You have to understand Scott, the Kents sent him here because his differences were isolating him. They are trusting us to make him feel accepted, to help him realize that just because he is different doesn't mean he has to be alone."

Looking Scott in the eyes, he told him "Look Scott, if you don't feel comfortable working with him, then I will find someone else."

"No Professor, I won't let you down.""Thank you Scott. I knew I could count on you and I am sorry you will miss the soccer game. I know how much you want to support Jean."

****

Forty five minutes later Scott, Kurt, Rahne, Roberto and Logan were loading the van for a weekend in the mountains. Now they were just waiting for Clark, it was four o'clock and he still hadn't returned from school. On top of that Roberto was looking a little pale, in spite of his normally dark complexion.

"Where is that boy?" Logan muttered under his breath, checking his watch again. "I wanted to get there before dark."

It was after five when Clark came casually strolling up the drive. To find Logan waiting for him.

"Where you been boy? I wanted to leave more than an hour ago."

Clark looked at him, puzzled.

"I ran a few errands after school. Dinner isn't until seven and I thought that was my deadline. Why? What's going on?"

Logan put a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples. These teenagers were going to be the death of him.

"Kent, we really need to get you a cell phone. Your probably the only kid on the Eastern Seaboard who doesn't have one."

Clark didn't feel like explaining that a cell phone was a luxury, one his parents really couldn't afford. Not like he had ever needed one. If his friends wanted him they just called on the land line and if his parents wanted him, they just yelled out the back door. They didn't even have to yell very loud.

"I've never needed one." He told him instead.

"Yea, well I think that's changed. The Professor needs to be able to contact any student at any time. Normally he would just call mentally but in your case..."

Clark didn't need to be reminded that he was different, even in a household of misfits.

"Sorry, if I had known I would have come right back."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to, I won't be pitching tents in the dark."

Logan led the way inside and Clark followed.

"Tents? What's going on?"

Logan gave a half smirk. "We're going camping Kent. A leisurely weekend in the mountains. Now doesn't that sound fun?"

"Isn't it a little late for camping?"

"Well it wouldn't be if you came home at a decent time."

"No, I meant...it's September, isn't it you know, kind of cold for camping?" Clark wasn't all that sure about that, January or July, didn't make any difference to him. He didn't suffer from heat or cold.

"Cold? Naw. Now maybe if you were still in diapers, but a big strapping lad like you shouldn't be bothered. Cold air is invigorating. I would a thought a farm boy like you would already get that. Now go pack an overnight bag and I'll get the others. Go."

Entering his dorm room, Clark found Scott doing homework at the computer desk. Each room did have a computer, Clark normally used the ones in the computer lab for writing e-mail so he wouldn't disturb his roommate in the morning. Thinking of e-mail, he hadn't checked his yet. Looked like now it would be Monday before he got a chance.

Turning the desk chair to face Clark, Scott was still angry and couldn't resist the urge to get in a little dig. "Nice of you to finally come home Clark. Of course it would have been nicer an hour ago."

Logan told him to pack an overnight bag and after a moments thought Clark decided the best thing he had for that was his school bag. So removing his text books, he still carried them for appearance sake, he started removing articles of clothing from his drawers and put them in his backpack.

"Sorry about that, I didn't realize I was supposed to come back early. It's been a long time since I had a four o'clock curfew."

Scott could hear the anger and tension in his voice, even if Clark tried to hide it. Remembering his promise to the Professor, he decided to extend an olive branch.

"Yea, well it was kind of a surprise to all of us. Normally training trips are scheduled in advance but the Professor decided we needed an early start. So...I won't hold it against you."

"Gee golly thanks." Clark said with his best hick drawl. "That's mighty kind of ya, bein big city folk and all."

Scott scowled. "I think you've been spending too much time with Lois." Still, it was kind of a refreshing change from his normally cold but polite behavior.

Clark had finished packing his bag and was in the process of pulling the zipper when his face took on a slightly disturbed cast. "I think you might be right. What a terrifying thought. Do you think I'll be mocking Duncan next?"

Scott chuckled, not missing the shared animosity aimed at the quarterback, Jean's boyfriend. That thought killed his rising humor.

"I don't think you have to be Lois to dislike Duncan, only human."

They shared a chuckle at the quarterback's expense, but Scott thought he saw Clark wince when he said that. For the first time since meeting the farm boy Scott was worried about him. Was Clark so messed up about being a mutant that he had trouble seeing himself as human?

Their moment came to an abrupt end as the door blew open, permitting the entrance of a blonde haired bundle of unstable energy; Tabitha 'Boom Boom' Smith.

"Killjoy." She pouted, looking them both over with obvious disappointment. "I was hoping to catch one of you being less than decent. Oh well, another day. Logan says, and I quote; 'Tell those two to get their skinny butts down here, we're leaving' end quote. So what do ya say?" She gave Clark a good looking over, her eyes stopping on his backside with a lascivious leer. "Get those buns of steel moving big boy, Tabby hasn't got all day."

Standing, Scott blocked her line of sight.

"Tabitha, would it be too much to ask you to knock first?"

Turning to look Scott in the eyes, she gave him a raised brow and a smile that screamed mischief.

"Not at all Slim, I love to knock."

Watching them interact, the two total opposites when it came to personality, Clark saw a tiny mote of light appear above Tabitha's fingers and with a flick of her wrist she sent it flying across the room to land on Scott's pillow. There was a distinct pop as the light flared then exploded, destroying the pillow and filling the air with goose down.

Turning from the decimated remains of his bedding, Scott intended to give the irreverent girl a piece of his mind but she was already through the door and skipping down the hall.

"Light a fire under it Summers, we're burning daylight." She yelled back, voice filled with laughter.

Plucking a slightly blackened feather out of the air, fuming, Scott was suddenly looking forward to a little R&R in the wilderness.

His good mood didn't last long.

"What do you mean Tabitha is coming? I thought it was going to be Roberto."

Scott was confronting Logan, his voice carrying a note of desperation instead of anger.

They were in the garage, loading themselves into the black club wagon van.

"Yea well, Roberto came up sick so Chuck decided to send the blonde firecracker in his place."

"Pull that stick out Scott." The blonde bombshell spouted as she was climbing into the van's front passenger seat. "You know this party would have been A-1 boring without a little Boom Boom to liven it up. I do have to apologize to Rahne though, I know she just has to be disappointed about losing the opportunity to spend the weekend alone with five hunky guys. Sorry girl but don't fret it none, there are still two studs for each of us. I'll even let you have the old guy. You do like older men, right?"

Rahne Sinclair is only fourteen years old, with her hair pulled back into two small ponytails she looked even younger. The Scottish girl's face turning almost as red as her hair, she tried to shrink down and hide in the back seat. She really wished Roberto was able to come. She didn't really know any of the others that well, maybe Kurt a little. Being surrounded by virtual strangers left her feeling a little bit threatened.

Seeing her discomfort, Clark gave her a little smile of reassurance as he climbed in and sat beside her. It only made the young girl turn an even brighter shade as adolescent hormones joined embarrassment. There was a low 'bamph' sound and the smell of brimstone as a blue furred Kurt teleported into the seat on her other side. His image inducer was turned off to conserve its batteries, being out for two whole days would require him to tightly ration its use.

This only made Rahne's situation worse, like most of the younger girls she found the blue furred mutant to be rather cute.

Giving the cause up as lost, Scott turned to ask Tabitha to give up his seat but the girl had already closed the door and was lost in her head phones, her bare feet tapping to the rhythm of the music on the dash. Now it was his turn to turn red as the rebellious part of his teenage mind reminded him that she was wearing a mini-skirt and if he was as tall as Clark, she would have been giving him a free show. Muttering under his breath he climbed into the back with the others.

Once the door closed Logan put the van into drive, leaving the mansion he did his best to ignore his underage companions. Sometimes life wasn't so good.

****

By the time they reached Logan's planned destination in the Appalachian mountains the sun was already setting. They were as far away from anywhere as one could get in the state of New York, in a national forest that was usually empty this late in the year. The perfect place for a little last minute training without witnesses. Entering a state campground through a locked gate, Xavier had a contact in the DNR who made the necessary arrangements, Logan parked the van beside the farthest most campsite in the park.

Turning on the interior light, Logan reached past the sleeping Tabitha to the glove box where he removed a small metal box. Opening it he started handing out watches.

"Each of these has a built in GPS unit that is linked to the one in the van. With their help you should be able to find your way back here, no matter how lost you get. The little blue button is a light so you can read it at night. The red button, now listen up this is important, the red button is a panic button. Hit it and it will send an SOS with your current location to the van, the mansion and all the other watches. Don't hit it unless you need to. Ororo doesn't like getting woken up in the middle of the night and the Professor has better things to do then pull your backsides out of the woods."

He looked each of them in the eye, looking for evidence that they understood what he said. When he came to the softly snoring Tabitha he rolled his eyes in dismay.

"Scott, I'm trusting you to make sure sleeping beauty here gets the message. Make sure she doesn't blow anything up, will ya."

Scott nodded but the look in his eyes showed he didn't hold out much hope of being successful. Seeing this, Kurt was quick to promise to take care of it. Logan had noticed that the elf seemed to be a little enamored of the outspoken girl. He hoped the little fur ball didn't end up getting his feelings hurt. As loud as the kid was it would be a trial for everybody.

"All right elf, she's your responsibility."

"Logan," Scott piped up. "I'm as big a fan of hanging in the woods after dark as the next guy, but what exactly are we doing out here? What sort of training are we doing?"

Logan gave him an amused smile, glad that someone finally thought to ask.

"Simple Scott. You and the Brady Bunch are going to camp here for the night, while I take a little hike. Starting tomorrow morning, I'll leave how early up to you, it's a little game of hide and seek. In other words you try to find me, while I do my best to make it as hard as possible. You have until sundown to do so. If at that point I'm still lost, you will return to the van in defeat and wait for me to get bored."

"Uh, Logan. Vhat if we find you before that?" Kurt asked. He really didn't want to spend his weekend in the woods. He spent most of his life in social isolation and was really enjoying being able to live like a normal person.

"Well elf, then we go home early and you get to waste time cruising the mall. Consider it motivation to speed things along."

Exiting the van, Logan walked around to the back as Scott opened the side door. Opening the rear, Logan pulled out his backpack loaded with the few things he felt he might need over the next two days. Including a first aid kit in case one of his charges did something stupid. He prayed it wouldn't be needed.

"I'll leave you to your marsh mellow roasting, see you when I see you. Most likely here tomorrow night. Good luck."

Still tying the straps on his pack, Logan started off into the woods.

"Vell, this is the funnest. I'm so glad the Profezzor decided to give us this opportunity to commune with nature. All the same though, I'm sleeping in the van."

Scott gave Kurt the eye, not that it was easy to tell behind his glasses.

"What are you complaining about Kurt? At least with your fur you don't have to worry about mosquitoes."

Stretching out, Kurt responded with a grin. "That's right. Der are so many advantages to being da fuzzy man."

The three started unloading their gear from the van and pitching tents. They left Tabitha asleep in the van, silently agreeing that this would all go much quicker and easier without her unique brand of input. They placed an electric lamp in the middle of the camp site and set about pitching the tents as best they could. Clark was struggling to put up his.

Rahne on the other hand, had hers up in three shakes of the proverbial dog's leg. She had done her share of roughing it. "Hey Clark, having a hard time seeing?" She asked when she noticed his difficulty.

"Uh, no I can see just fine. I'm just not sure how this goes, I've never pitched a tent before."

The others stared at him in amazement.

"Your kidding." Scott's disbelief was clear in his tone. "A corn fed farm boy like you? Weren't you in the Boy Scouts?"

"No." Clark continued struggling with the tent, not looking the other boy in the eye. "My parents didn't think it was a good idea. Too risky."

Giving up on the poles for the moment, Clark decided to stake it to the ground first, see if that helped. Circling the tent he drove the metal spikes into the ground with his thumb. Kurt was reaching out to offer him the hammer when he witnessed the first stake going in like a knife through Jell-O. The same task had taken more effort for him and he used the hammer.

"Whoa! Vhat do they feed you mon frere?"

Clark couldn't believe he had done that. Was he already so comfortable around the others that he was beginning to forget what he could do? He reminded himself that they already knew he wasn't normal, that they weren't normal. 'It's okay.' He told himself, if only he could believe it.

Rahne helped him with the poles, quickly assembling the confusing mess into something usable without breaking a single fiberglass pole. Kurt and Scott started on Tabitha's.

"Ve should just let her sleep on the ground." Kurt grumbled.

Scott grinned at him. "Really? You know she would just kick you out of your tent don't you?"

Kurt grimaced, then let slip a shy smile.

"Maybe I could offer to share. She be happy with that, no?"

"Put it back in the holster cowboy. Let's just put up her tent and be done with it."

Once they finished, Tabitha woke up just long enough to say "Cool, room service." Before disappearing into her tent for the night.

Agreeing that it would be too much of a hassle cooking in the dark, they all decided to skip dinner and turn in. Climbing into his sleeping bag, Clark listened to the sound of the other's heart beats leveling out into sleep. Growing up he wished he could go camping with the other kids, envious of Pete's stories about scouting. Now he had his chance. Maybe coming to the institute had some advantages after all. It would be nice to just relax and be himself.

****

Saturday morning Clark was the first to awaken, leaving his tent, knowing from the steady rhythm of their heart beats that the others were still deep in dream land. With nothing to do until the others woke up, he decided to make breakfast. He may not know much about camping but he did know how to cook over a gas stove. How different could it be?

They brought charcoal briquettes with them and before long he was blowing on the heating coals. It had been easy to light, though he had used too much 'scout water' and if he had been anyone else he would be short his bangs and eyebrows. Armed with a cast iron pan, metal tongs and a spatula, he cracked open several eggs. Adding bacon, cheese and some spices to make omelets.

It hadn't been cooking long when he heard a change in Rahne's heart beat and sluggish movement from within her tent. Looking up, a good morning already on his lips, he dropped the spatula in surprise when a real life wolf stuck its head out of her tent. Its reddish brown fur gleaming in the light of the fire, it looked from the food to him and he could have sworn it looked pleased. Before his startled eyes, the wolf morphed into Rahne, pony tails and all.

"Morning Clark." She greeted cheerfully as she wrapped a jacket around herself to ward off the chill morning air.

"Morning." Clark's eyes grew wide as he spotted the dropped spatula resting in the coals, its wooden handle just starting to discolor in the heat and flames. He had resolved to stop worrying so much about hiding his abilities and without the benefit of gloves, he reached into the fire and snatched it out. Then using a little of their bottled water and a paper towel he wiped it clean.

Now it was Rahne's turn to stare. "Didn't that burn?" She asked.

Clark held up his hand so she could see it was fine.

Looking at him, she realized that while she was shivering in her heavy jacket, he appeared to be perfectly comfortable in just a t-shirt.

"Is that your mutant power? Not to be affected by heat or cold."

He shrugged, not sure how to answer without technically lying.

"It doesn't bother me, no." Deciding that not saying too much was better then out and out falsehood.

"Cool." She gave him a cheerful smile. "I was tempted to stay a wolf, warm in my furry coat but then I wouldn't have been able to eat that breakfast. It smells wonderful."

"Thank you. My mother would be pleased to know her cooking lessons weren't in vain."

Dishing some out, Clark left the rest in the pan on the fire. When the others crawled out of their tents he dished out more, while Rahne testified to how good it tasted.

Tabitha was the last to arise. She was halfway through her plate before her eyes opened enough to show their bright blue color.

"Hey, where's the coffee? I need a hot cup of Joe if I'm going to go traipsing through the woods."

Scott shook his head. "We didn't bring any, so I'm afraid you'll have to settle for a cold can of Coke."

"It's not so bad." Kurt nudged her with a smile. "At least there is caffeine."

"Yea, great. I forgot how much I love roughing it."

With two quick bamphs, Kurt was back and handing her a cold red can.

"Thanks Blue." She took the can, giving him a dazzling smile in return. Kurt nearly melting into a blue puddle of fur at her feet.

Clark and Rahne had started first, so they also finished first, cleaning up while the others were still eating. When everyone was done they each disappeared back into their tents to get ready for a day of hiking. Clark put on his flannel jacket over his t-shirt, not wanting to stand out too much if they managed to run into someone in the woods. The odds weren't very good, but better safe than sorry. Kurt was staying blue and fuzzy, ready to teleport away or activate his image inducer at a moments notice.

"So, how ve going to do this?" He asked. "You know Logan is not going to make this easy."

Scott was exchanging his sun glasses for his more practical visor. "I was hopping Rahne could lead us to him. What do you think Rahne, can you track him?"

"I think so." Shifting into her full wolf form, she trotted off in the direction Logan went the night before. Sniffing around on the ground until she found his spore, she looked back at the others before trotting off into the woods.

"Here's to a successful hunt and a quick return." Scott said before following the wolf girl.

****

Liwei may be of Chinese descent and rather small in stature, but he was anything but humble. At only five feet and three inches tall, he wore only the finest clothes and carried himself with a larger than life attitude.

He was special and he knew it. He did his best to make sure the rest of the world knew it too.

He was currently in Vegas, the club at the Mirage Casino to be precise. He didn't really care for Vegas, he hated the dry air of the desert and considered the gaudy glitz and over embellished glamour of the city to be beneath him. He preferred the understated elegance and extravagant wealth of Manhattan. Not to mention his home neighborhood of Chinatown. He was in Vegas because the money was easy. With his gifts dice and the spinning wheel were his best friends. When playing at the craps table or the roulette wheel everything always fell his way, for that was his gift, making things fall. He cut his teeth playing dice in back alleys and backrooms in Chinatown, before going to Atlantic City where he got too cocky, winning too much on dice until the casinos blacklisted him. It didn't matter that they couldn't figure out how he was cheating, they knew that no one won that consistently and even if it was just luck, they reserved the right to refuse service to anyone, especially people who broke a quarter million in one night. Regretfully leaving the city on the coast behind, he came to this oasis in the desert to seek his fortune. Careful not to make the same mistake again, he expanded his repertoire to include any game of chance where he could get close enough and where gravity had an influence on the outcome. He also learned not to win too much at one time or in one place, spreading his activities over a wide swath.

So now he was in Vegas, doing his best not to stand out too much at the tables, while doing everything he could to stand out everywhere else. Like here in this bar, where he was doing his level best to make the ladies tumble for him. Wearing a five thousand dollar suit with the finest in tasteful accessories, while throwing money around like it wasn't water in the desert. If he threw enough of it around then some girl would fall for him, it never failed and tonight was no exception.

Though the girl in question was, she was far from his normal catch. Caucasian, with dark brown eyes and hair with just a tinge of honey in her long tresses. Slender of build with curves in all the right places, best displayed by the little black number she was wearing. She was the very definition of classical beauty. She was also five six without the three inch heels and looked to be in her thirties. Liewi would never admit it but normally he found taller and older women to be intimidating, preferring something more akin to petite and fresh out of high school. Not tonight, tonight this woman was very much the exception.

Liewi was enjoying a sexual rush equal to anything he had ever felt between the sheets and all she had done so far was place a delicate hand upon his own. If she could get him this excited by only holding his hand, then there was no way he was turning down her attentions. He would stand on a box if he had to.

Now he was following her back to her hotel, his head lost in a euphoric haze.

Leading the dazed boy by the hand, she hadn't broken physical contact with him once since joining him at the bar, she gave him a seductive smile before pulling him down an alley and away from the brightly lit and crowded street. He was following, a fool's smile plastered across his fine Asian features when gravity decided to help him once again. Walking with his head in the clouds he never saw the unattended and empty beer bottle lying in his path, causing him to stumble and fall. Landing hard on his knees, hands stretched out before him to keep his head from bouncing off the pavement, he broke contact with his lady friend. His ardor cooled instantly with the lose of her touch.

Kneeling on the ground, Liewi's mind suddenly cleared. Looking up he saw her stumbling on the unsteady platform of spiked heels, having been nearly pulled from her own feet when he fell. Steadying herself she turned towards him, the suggestive smile back on her face as she reached for him.

"What's wrong handsome, are we feeling impatient?"

She was bending down, reaching for him, when with a flash of insight he realized that letting her touch him again was a very bad idea. His mind and senses blessed with a clarity brought on by fear, Liewi saw his surroundings for the first time. He was in an empty alley with a woman who he realized had never even told him her name. It hadn't seemed important when he was under the influence of her touch. He saw a black, unmarked van with darkened windows parked at the far end of the alley with its rear end facing towards him. Standing behind it was a tall man with dark hair and a severe black suit that lacked any style. Next to him was a woman with long blonde hair, dressed entirely in black form fitting leather; boots, pants and jacket.

The streets of the big apple were not kind to those who hesitated and Liewi was not slow to act. With a warding gesture, he caused his would be date to fall away from him as gravity took a ninety degree turn, now running parallel to the ground. Slamming into the far wall of the alley, gravity then reverted to normal allowing her to tumble to the pavement.

The couple at the end of the alley were quick to act as well.

"Angela! Blind him, now!" The poorly dressed man yelled to his female companion.

Raising her hands before her, she sent a wave of darkness down the alley to wash over Liewi. Leaving him in a void, the total absence of light.

Liewi smirked, they underestimated him, the darkness would do little to hinder one with his magnificent gifts. Releasing gravity's hold on him, he started to rise towards the sky.

"He's rabbiting!" A woman's voice yelled.

The darkness did nothing to inhibit sound and Liewi heard the distinctive click of the van doors being opened.

"Rupert! Release your dog!" The man yelled to someone unseen.

Liewi tried to speed his ascent as he heard the sound of claws scrabbling on pavement. Then he felt a heavy weight slam into him with horrific force. Hot, foul breath blowing across his face, Liewi fell back to earth and into the dark embrace of unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 8 A Shrinking World

Chapter 7: A Shrinking World

Sierra Vista High School in Las Vegas Nevada is a good size school, in spite of being one of more than half a dozen within the city oasis in the desert. The main building is laid out like the letter 'C' facing East. The open end of the 'C' partially closed off by a secondary structure that houses the school's athletic facilities.

To the south of the buildings lay the parking lot and Robindale Rd running east and west. To the west was South Cimarron Rd which runs north and south, ending where it meets Robindale. To the north of the main building was the large grassy area that served as the school's lawn, if you didn't mind the grass being dry and mostly yellow. It was bordered by the east and west running West Eldorado Ln, the road only extending as far as the border of the school grounds. On the east, starting in the north east corner and running south; lay a baseball diamond, two rows of outdoor tennis and basketball courts, followed by the football field. The east side of the school grounds being bordered by another short road that again was only as long as the school grounds, named of all things, Warbonnet Way. The four roads circumscribed the school, forming a box around it. Beyond the four roads was open and empty wasteland, it is a desert after all.

It was like someone had decided to take the south west corner of the city and cut a large hole out of it, leaving a large area that was empty of development, then plopped the square grounds of the school right in the middle like an old western fort. The school is literally surrounded by an open expanse of nothing. The nearest building being a Mormon church house east down Robindale, far enough away that you would need binoculars to identify the people entering its doors. To the north stood the St Rose Dominican Hospital, far enough that even binoculars wouldn't be enough to see faces. To the south, after a long walk through empty dessert and scrub brush, lay The Crossing; a non denominational Christian church. It lay far enough away that the same pair of binoculars might allow a viewer to identify cars, but barely see the people. It was like the school's founders had originally intended it to be a juvenile detention facility, the kind they surround with men on horseback carrying M-16s, accessed by a mile of bad road.

Back to the main 'C' shaped building of the school. There in the open center of the 'C' lies a courtyard, home to more than nine trees. On the second floor of the north wing of the building, its windows overlooking the blue checker board pattern of the courtyard, is located the offices of the Mountain Lion Messenger, the school's paper. Standing behind one of those windows, watching as her fellow students mill about, excitedly planning their weekend activities or just making their way to the parking lot, is recent transplant and future Investigative Journalist, Chloe Sullivan.

Chloe is a petite, fifteen year old girl with short blonde hair and bright, inquisitive eyes. When Luthorcorp transferred her father, Gabe, he packed her up and they moved from Smallville Kansas to Las Vegas Nevada, home of gambling, sin, Nellis Air Force base and a massive Luthor Agriculture research farm dedicated to breeding drought resistant plants.

'Doing our part to make the world a better place' is what it said on the billboard south west of the city.

Chloe had been excited to move to the big city but sometimes, just every once in a while, she missed living in Smallville. She missed her friends, Clark and Pete, she missed the small town atmosphere, but most of all she missed the Torch, Smallville High's school paper.

Don't misunderstand, she liked living in Las Vegas. It had all of the excitement and opportunities of a big city, yet once you got away from the strip it almost felt like a small town. An outgoing girl, she was already making new friends and she even held a position on her new school's paper.

The Mountain Lion Messenger is larger and better equipped then the Torch, with no less than twelve students actively working on it. A big difference from what she had before with just her and Clark with the occasional help from Pete, but that is exactly what she missed about it. The Torch had been hers, she was in charge and the only oversight from the school was the occasional chewing out she received from the principal when he read something in the paper he didn't approve of, but only after it had been printed and disseminated to the public.

At Sierra Vista she was just one of a dozen and an under classman to boot, with an assigned advisor who pre-read everything before it went into print. More than anything what she missed was being the maverick reporter, alone in a world of stories waiting to be told.

Sierra Vista did have its advantages though. She was learning far more than she would have on her own and her advisor had even helped her get a part time job at the Sun. The Las Vegas Sun may not be the New York Times or the Daily Planet, but it was still a major metropolitan paper and a big step up from the Smallville Gazette.

Yes, Vegas definitely held a lot more opportunities for an up and coming Investigative Journalist. She just needed a story, something big enough to be printed in the Sun, not just the ASNE. Something that would get her in the front door of the journalism business, hopefully without spending years buried in the basement writing obituaries.

With a deep sigh she admits to herself that her current assignment, a student opinion piece on the school dress code and how it relates to body piercing, is not such a story. No, what she needs is something with teeth; a scandal or crime story. Not a fluff piece on tacky jewelry. Her advisor had already vetoed any mentioning of 'intimate piercing', the only thing that might have garnered the article any attention from the reading public.

How she missed the old days when she could write whatever she wanted. She had honestly never paid much attention to the principal's little lectures. Except of course to include an editorial concerning the first amendment and the freedom of the press in the next issue. Something else the principal never really appreciated.

Sighing again, she tells herself that she isn't going to find her story watching students in the courtyard. 'This is Las Vegas,' she tells herself. 'the town that took scandal and immorality and made them a tourist attraction. Somewhere in this city there has to be a story worth writing. The only problem is finding it.'

Leaving the window she returned to her work station, forcing herself to finish the boring piece on nose rings and gauging. After sending it in for editing and approval, she decided to check her e-mail. She hadn't checked it since Tuesday, being too busy with this riveting assignment, and she was hopeful that one of her friends had something more interesting than body art to share.

Pete was a no go.

He was trying out for his school's soccer team which was interesting, he babbled on about the new love of his life which was not. She loved the lug and really missed him, but seriously, he was so boring. She sometimes thought he should go into politics. At least he would never have to worry about scandal undermining his career aspirations.

At first glance Clark's was no better.

She did have to admit that he had a gift for projecting emotions through words though. I mean, how many people can actually brood through the medium of print? She had all but given up hope when she saw something that set her heart to racing. A shocked "Oh my god!" escaping her lips.

"Chloe, is something wrong?" Alex Rickman asked her from his place across the table, watching her through the gap between their monitors.

He was one of her new friends and defacto partner on the paper. He also had a small crush on her and she had discovered that with a few kind words and a little flutter of the eye lashes, she could get him to do just about anything she wanted. He wasn't as easy on the eyes as Clark, nor as easy going as Pete, but she kind of liked him just the same. They had already gone to one movie together as an informal date. The movie was bad, but the date not so much. She discovered that he had a sharp wit, much to the annoyance of the other movie goers. She was debating the wisdom of inviting him over for a movie night, some time when her father was working late.

Now he was watching her with a mixed look of curiosity and concern, waiting for her to explain her outcry.

Chloe was too caught up in excitement to be embarrassed by her unintended slip back to junior high. When your only fifteen that seems like such a big deal.

"I know they say it is a small world but this is..."

When she trailed off mid sentence, Alex decided that a little prodding was in order. "Chloe?"

She probably would have continued to ignore him but for the small pink eraser he had slipped off the end of his pencil, bouncing off her forehead.

"Oh, Alex." She said, glancing back at him between the monitors. "It's just...you remember Clark, my friend back in Smallville?"

Alex remembered him alright.

Chloe also had a gift for words, one good enough to make him glad her old friend was currently living thousands of miles away. "Isn't he the one going to school in New York?"

Then her choice of words sank in, filling him with a terrible premonition. "He isn't coming to Vegas, is he?" He saw his chances at catching the blonde girl's attention sinking in quicksand.

"Huh?" Chloe answered unintelligently.

Her mind was caught up in the image of Clark Kent standing on the strip in Vegas, his mouth hanging open, eyes big as saucers. She giggled at the thought of him meeting one of the girls working in Caesar's Palace, the ones with the flashing earrings and light up yo-yos. She was sure that if he did Lana Lang would disappear completely from his mind.

"Uh, no. Why would you think he was coming to Vegas?"

Alex hid a relieved sigh. "You mentioned it being a small world, then reminded me of Clark. What did you mean?"

If there is one thing Alex is good at, it's clear speaking. He was wasted on print, his talents lying more along the lines of a television anchorman.

"Oh, yeah. I was just reading one of his e-mails and he wrote about some of the people he has met in Bayville, including Lois."

Alex continued to stare at her, a big question mark written on his forehead. "Lois?"

Unlike him, Chloe was much better at conveying her thoughts through print. When speaking, especially when excited, she often came across as a bit...scatterbrained. It was, Alex felt, one of her more endearing traits. Certainly better than her tendency to get bossy when she was all caught up in a story.

"Lois Lane." She told him. "She's my cousin on my mother's side. Apparently she is going to the same school as Clark and according to him she has been busting his chops."

She smirked, imagining Lois' forceful and aggressive type A personality slamming up against Clark's passive resistance. Now that she was thinking of them together it occurred to her that they were exact opposites of each other, a regular yin and yang.

"I can't imagine why she would be going to Bayville High? Uncle Sam is a General in the army and Lois has been bounced all over the world, but I researched Bayville and there aren't any army bases there. At least nothing close enough that he would send her to Bayville High. In fact, I could have sworn that the last time she wrote me her father was being redeployed to somewhere in Africa. She was complaining that he wanted to send her to some military academy in Virginia. How did she end up in Bayville with Clark?"

Alex could tell that she was getting lost in her own thoughts, her mind trying to puzzle out this new mystery. Seeking some reassurance, Alex ventured a rather strange question. One that came completely from left field.

"You don't suppose your cousin and Clark might, you know, hit it off?"

Chloe was looking at him like he had just announced that Pope Benedict was leaving the church to become an exotic dancer at Chippendales.

"Lois and Clark?" She scoffed. "A couple?" Now she was laughing.

After several minutes of tittering, she finally calmed down enough to try to explain it to him.

"Lois and Clark, that would be like mixing oil and water...then adding a match. If you read what Clark wrote about her you would know that my dear sweet cousin is driving him nuts. He calls her the 'bane of his existence'." Using her fingers she added quote marks to the end of that sentence.

Without thinking, she reached across the table and placed her hand atop his, inadvertently causing his blood pressure to rise.

"Trust me, if Lois and Clark are together I don't think there will be any fireworks, just fire and anyone standing too close is bound to get burned."

Alex didn't know about Lois and Clark, but he was seeing fireworks.

****

With Rahne leading the way at first the hunt was easy. Like a bloodhound, her sensitive nose allowed her to follow Logan's spore in spite of the hours that had passed while they slept. She didn't have a lot of experience at this yet it seemed to come naturally, like instinct.

A little over two hours into the hunt they ran into their first obstacle. It was a stream, four feet across and maybe eight inches deep at the most. Even Tabitha was able to leap it without getting wet. It took Rahne nearly an hour to find Logan's trail again. She ran up and down the bank, in both directions searching for his scent, with only failure to show for it.

Having experience with Logan's training methods, Scott recommended that she try the other bank, the one they started on.

Doing so, she found it quickly, Logan had doubled back to throw them off.

Tabitha complained about having to jump the stream a second time and with a playful smile she asked Kurt to teleport her, which he did and from the smile on his face he didn't seem to mind in the least.

After that it seemed Logan had made a beeline deeper into the mountains, the elevation climbing at a quick rate. It was a little over an hour after the stream that they ran into the second obstacle the old mutant had arranged for them. Not that it proved to be much of an obstacle, not with Kurt around. It was a ravine, a simple drop of about twenty feet. It was easy to make out where Logan had struck the ground below, relying on his metal lined bones and healing factor to see him through the fall.

They had a choice, back track till they could make their way down into the ravine, or drop in right here. No problem, not when you have your own personal teleporter at hand. In moments and with several 'bamphs', Kurt had carried his companions to the bottom of the ravine. Back on the trail, Rahne's nose again led the way.

Soon Logan's meandering trail intersected a foot path, one that was clearly maintained by the park service. To their surprise, his spore led straight up the path. Apparently he had given up subterfuge in exchange for the speed and ease of travel the path provided. It kind of made sense, after all he would have made this trip in the dark. They followed the path for more than an hour, making good time as it wound its way towards a sharp ridge line ahead. Once it became clear that Logan was deviating from the path, Tabitha convinced Kurt that there was no reason why they should have to walk the entire way.

"It vould make things quicker." Kurt ventured, looking to Scott for permission.

He knew Tabitha was just trying to get out of what was proving to be a long hike, but he didn't mind. He wanted to find their instructor as quick as possible, hopefully in time to make it back to the mansion before the entire weekend was wasted.

Scott hesitated. It felt like cheating, something he found personally unacceptable, but then again, Logan had often impressed upon him the importance of working smarter, not harder. He smirked, realizing that the older man was probably expecting them to do this.

"I don't know guys." He voiced his concern reluctantly. He wanted this trip to end just as much as the rest of them.

"I bet Logan is expecting us to do that. He probably left the trail somewhere ahead, just so we would lose the trail and have to back track. It's just too easy."

"Aw man." Kurt verbalized his disappointment. "You're probably right. That sounds just like Logan."

The only one who didn't feel disappointed was Clark, he was enjoying himself. Of course he wasn't feeling the strain of hiking up hill. To him this was all an easy excursion in the countryside, something the farm had left little time for.

The wolf that is Rahne looked up at her companions. Seeing their dismay she morphed back into her human form so she could speak.

"If you guys want, I can follow the trail. I'll just howl if he left the trail, then you can all come back down to meet me."

Kurt and Tabitha gave the younger girl warm smiles of gratitude. Not only would her offer speed things up, but they would get a chance to rest while waiting for her to catch up. There was just one problem with the idea and it was named Scott.

"I don't think that would be a good idea." He said. "I don't think it would be fair to Rahne."

Kurt was crestfallen and the little red head really wanted to see the cute fur ball happy again.

"It's okay Scott." She promised. "This is one time when having four legs is much better than two. I can make the trip easy. In fact, you guys are just slowing me down."

Kurt was smiling again. "Yea, that's right. Is just one of Rahne's strengths. The Professor vould vant us to use our strengths."

Scott couldn't argue with that, but he still shook his head in the negative.

"I appreciate the offer Rahne, but I don't think it would be a good idea to leave you alone out here." He said with a rueful shake of his head. "The Professor is always telling us that we are stronger as a team. Even Logan tells us we should use the buddy system whenever possible. I'm afraid they wouldn't approve of us leaving you alone. No offense."

"This blows." Tabitha complained, launching a small explosive off into the air to emphasize the point, causing Scott to cringe.

Clark looked at his companions, not really seeing them, mind lost in an internal debate. Finally he decided that he really didn't need to hide the fact that he was different from them, just how different. They already knew he could do things normal humans couldn't, so it wouldn't hurt if he pushed the envelope just a little. He had already done more with Logan after all.

"I can stay with her. Rahne, I mean. I can run with her while you guys wait ahead."

Kurt and Tabitha looked towards Scott, expecting him to argue. To their surprise it was Rahne who voiced opposition to Clark's offer.

"That's no good. Thanks Clark, but you would still slow me down so what would be the point?"

Kurt and Tabitha were starting to feel like yo-yos, first up then down as each suggestion was inevitably shot down. Scott, on the other hand, was grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary.

"No Rahne, I think it's a great idea. One thing I know about Clark is that he can travel pretty fast and over broken ground. If he can out run the van then I bet he can keep up with you. Let's do this. We'll be home in time to celebrate Jean's victory."

"All right!" Kurt shouted, only to fall silent as Tabitha wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Come on Blue." With every word her breath blew on the sensitive hair covering his ears, causing shivers of excitement to race up and down his back. "Let's see if you can make the Earth move."

Kurt melted into her embrace, an idiots grin plastered on his face.

Scott chuckled at the younger boy's reaction to the blonde's teasing. "You heard the lady lover boy. Let's get this show on the road. Rahne, Clark, we'll see you at the top."

Scott grabbed onto Kurt from the other side and with a 'bamph', the three disappeared.

"You tell me if I'm going too fast and I'll slow down, okay Clark?" Rahne said somewhat timidly. Now that she was alone with this tall and handsome boy, the butterflies were dancing in her stomach.

In response, Clark gave her a warm smile that only made it worse. "Don't worry Rahne. I can keep up, I promise."

That smile was threatening to turn Rahne's legs to rubber. Before she could embarrass herself in front of him, she morphed into a wolf, her fur hiding the blush that had spread over her face and down her neck. Giving him one last look, she started up the trail, occasionally glancing back to make sure he could keep up before increasing the speed of her loping run. She was pleased to see that he was keeping up with obvious ease. Her sensitive canine nose told her that he didn't smell like other men, while her primal instincts told her that he wasn't a threat. Her other instincts, the ones she shared with every other girl her age, told her differently. The combination had her panting and not from exertion.

Clark followed the wolf girl at a pace that would have pushed even a conditioned athlete, but to him it was an easy jog. A smile kept creeping onto his face. He was finding this little escapade to be strangely liberating. It felt good to spend time with other people without worrying about slipping up and exposing his abilities.

The little Clark in the back of his head was wishing Lois was here, wondering if she would be impressed. With a sharp shake of his head, he crushed that thought. He should be thinking about Lana, she was the girl he had long wanted to impress. Though, he had to admit, it would be nice to see Lois struck speechless, just once. Not that he thought that was possible, humanly or otherwise. A speechless Lois was about as likely as him being able to fly without wings.

Not going to happen.

****

Teleporting ahead, Kurt, Tabitha and Scott traveled in steps that were as long as the eye could see. Quickly making their way to the end of the trail, which just happened to be a strong iron gate blocking the mouth of a cave like opening in the side of the ridge. There was a small clearing around the cave mouth, with log benches for weary hikers to rest on and a wooden forestry service sign that proclaimed this to be Tilver's Pass. According to the map carved into the sign, the cave passed clean through the ridge and came out the other side above a town named Spring Hollow. Just a little stopping point along a state highway. There was an aged and yellowed piece of paper contained within a Plexiglas enclosure built into the sign, listing the times and dates when tours of the cave would be held. The last one was in August.

"Logan went into the cave alright." Scott said while studying the gate that blocked their way.

"How can you tell?" Kurt asked, moving closer to see for himself.

"Because there are two padlocks on this gate." Reaching out he took both locks in the palm of his hand, holding them up for the other boy's inspection. "See, the older weathered lock is hanging open. While this shiny new lock is closed. Logan must have used a key to open the old lock, then left the new one here to slow us down."

Kurt scratched his head, confused by this idea. "Vhy vould he leave a new lock vhen there is one already here?"

Tabitha pushed her way in between the two boys before Scott could answer. "Because he expects us to destroy one when we follow him Blue. Now step back and let Tabby do what Tabby does best."

Pushing them aside, she took the shiny new lock in one hand, while with the other she caused a small pinpoint of light to appear, then pushed it into the key hole. Stepping quickly back, she chanted "Bada bing, bada..." 'BOOM!'

The padlock fell apart, leaving the 'U' shaped lock bar hanging uselessly through the links of the chain that held the gate shut.

With a grin on his face, Kurt started to open the gate, but Scott stopped him.

"We should wait for Rahne and Clark to catch up before we go any further."

"Sounds good to me." Tabitha agreed, sitting down on one of the benches, head tipped back with her eyes closed, letting the warm sunlight that was breaking through the clouds shine upon her face. Patting the bench next to her, she beckoned Kurt with a flirtatious smile. "Come here Blue, I'm cold."

Kurt was only too happy to comply and soon the two were cuddling on the bench. Scott was more than a little envious as a cloud passed in front of the sun, sending a chill down his spine, reminding him that September was a little late in the year to be tramping around at high elevation. Rubbing his arms for warmth, he settled on one of the other benches to wait for his absent compatriots to catch up.

"I hope they hurry." He whispered, too low for the other two to hear.

****

Rahne and Clark were making good time, going as fast as possible while still allowing Rahne to keep track of Logan's scent. She kept expecting it to veer off the trail like Scott had warned, but to her surprise it continued along the trail and before too long she led Clark out of the trees and into the small clearing where the others were waiting, seated upon crude wooden benches.

Scott was obviously happy to see them, but Kurt looked disappointed as Tabitha slipped away from him and rose to her feet.

Rahne padded past, following Logan's spore to the gate where she lost it beneath the fresher scents of her companions. Confident that he went into the cave, she morphed back into human form. She enjoyed being a wolf, it was a rush running through the woods, a hundred and one scents tickling her nose, but wolves couldn't speak. Even her hybrid form found it difficult, her oversized teeth causing her to speak with a whistling lisp. Speech is a human gift, equal to any her animal form could give.

The sky had been growing increasingly overcast while they waited for Rahne and Clark to catch up and Scott eyed the encroaching clouds with worry. Non of them were prepared for rain.

"Let's hurry and find Logan." He said. "The sky is getting ugly and personally, I want to be in the van on the way home before it decides to dump on us. At least it should be too early in the year for snow, but I'm not too enthusiastic about getting rained on either."

"You said it man." Kurt voiced his agreement. "Vet fur really sucks."

Rahne shuddered, sharing the sentiment. At least she could escape that fate by turning human. All Kurt could do is hide it under the illusion of his image inducer.

Taking the lead, Scott opened the gate and entered the cave. It didn't take long for him to see that they had a problem, or maybe it would be more accurate to say it didn't take long before he couldn't see and that is the problem.

"Did anyone think to bring a flashlight?" He asked with little hope.

He felt stupid, they were going to be defeated by the dark. Logan would never let him hear the end of it.

"No problem." Tabitha answered him.

Holding her hand out, cupped palm facing up, she formed a small ball of energy above it. The little light surged and dimmed with the beating of her heart, causing the light it cast to give the illusion of flickering, but it was enough for them to see by.

Kurt could see a little too well and what he saw frightened him.

"Careful Tabitha. Making boom in a cave, very bad idea." His hands were making warding gestures toward the small light in her hand.

Rolling her eyes, Tabitha responded with a "Relax Blue, I control the boom and it won't happen unless I want it to."

With Tabitha and her little light leading the way, they made their way through the cave until it exited on the other side of the ridge. It was a long hike, though not as long as it would have been to climb over the ridge above, but still it took a while to complete and by the time they exited out the other side it was past mid day. The sky was now also completely overcast.

Far down the mountainside they could see the state highway, the occasional car traveling its length. Down the road to the south, the small town of Spring Hollow.

"Rahne, if you would?" Scott gestured to the ground at their feet.

With a proud smile, the little red head morphed back into a wolf, her nose quickly picking up their quarry's scent. With a quick look back, she trotted off into the woods, confident that the others would follow.

The trail proceeded down the mountain and straight to the road, where the residue of motor oil and gas fumes made it difficult to follow. Even worse, the rain that had been threatening for the last hour started to fall. Slowly at first with big, wet drops, then speeding up, promising to be a real downpour.

Rahne's ears perked up, then she morphed back into her human form. His eyes moving with hers down the road, Clark placed his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Car's coming." He warned the smaller boy.

Seeing Rahne nod in confirmation, Kurt activated his image inducer, unconsciously relaxing with the knowledge that he now looked as normal as everyone else.

Huddling under the sheltering boughs of a tree, they watched a garish orange Volkswagon drive by leaving the harsh scent of diesel fuel in its wake. Once it had passed they all looked to Scott for direction.

"Vhat now fearless leader?"

"Yeah high beams," Tabitha queried. "we just gonna hang out under this tree or what?"

Scott looked to Rahne but she shook her head no. "With the rain any trail he might have left will soon disappear. Sorry, but I think he was headed south down the road."

"You don't suppose he went into town?" Clark asked. He didn't know the older man like Scott did, having no idea if that was something Logan would do.

Scott considered it. "Maybe, if he saw the rain coming. He certainly wouldn't have remained in the open. Whether he did or not, it certainly beats hanging out under this tree with the smell of Kurt's wet fur."

"Hey!" Kurt whined, faking offense.

Grinning, Scott said; "I say we go into town. Even if Logan isn't there, at least we'll be able to find somewhere dry to wait out the storm."

That decided, they ran towards town. In spite of their best efforts, they were all quite wet by the time they reached the shelter of a storefronts green awning. Looking around they could see that Spring Hollow was little more than a stop along the highway. There was the grocery/convenience/ gas station they were currently huddling in front of. Next door was the ubiquis country bar, a couple of cars already parked out front even at this time of day. Across the street was a single story, roadside motel with maybe half a dozen rooms. Attached to the motel was a small country diner, a hand written sign in the window advertising fresh apple pie.

It was what they saw in front of the diner that grabbed their attention. There, parked front and center, plain as day, was a large, black, club wagon van.

"No, it couldn't be." Kurt mused in disbelief.

Scott was wearing a tight, frustrated smile. "Yea, it could."

Checking both ways, they dashed across the street and into the diner, shaking off the rain as they searched the interior. It was nearly lunch time and nearly a dozen people were present, many eating apple pie. There, seated at the bar with the partial remains of scrambled eggs and hash browns on a plate before him, was Logan. A perfectly dry Logan who was quietly laughing at their dripping forms. With an annoyed 'harumph', Scott led the way to their grinning tormentor.

"Well, well. What have we here? Is that wet fur I smell?" Logan chuckled at their expense.

"Hey old man," Tabitha's voice had a sharp edge to it, she was pissed. "how long have you been in this nice comfy building while we were tromping around in the wilderness?"

The large, toothy grin on his face might have been intimidating, if it wasn't so amused.

"Oh, I've been here all morning and most of the night. I had a room reserved here at the motel." At their disbelieving looks, he exclaimed "What? You didn't expect me to spend the night in the woods like some sort of animal, did ya? After all, the weather man did predict rain you know."

Scott was frustrated and annoyed, but he knew it would do little good to vent on their instructor. Logan would just find it funny.

"How did the van get here?" He asked instead.

"Oh, that? I caught a ride down to the campground about an hour ago. I was confident you would find me before it was too late, what with Rahne's nose and all, so I retrieved it and your tents. Figure this way we'll be home in time for dinner. Look, I still have my room. Why don't you take turns, first girls then boys, and use it to clean up and change. Then eat a quick lunch and we'll head back to the mansion. If we hurry you might even get home early enough to waste some time with your friends. What do ya say?"

They wanted to say a lot of things, all four letters long. Instead Tabitha snatched the dangling room key from his hand and taking hold of Rahne, she dragged the smaller girl out the door to the van where they retrieved their packs before disappearing into room number four to change.

Expecting them to take awhile, Scott and the others sat down to order.

Author's notes:

Thanks again to everyone who made a comment or offered criticism.

Regarding Flash Thompson...I mean Duncan Mathews (you get the picture), his role and that of all his many counterparts is to be the annoying jerk that we all wanted the hero to lay out on the floor. If you thought he and Scott didn't get along, I figure him and Clark will be a powder keg just waiting to blow.

I apologize if Storm was OCC. As I have already mentioned it has been a long time since I watched the cartoon and though I have tracked down some information on the net (including a site where I have watched the first few episodes of the second season), most of what I remember about her was that she seemed awfully aloof and well mannered.

Lex Luthor; I still don't intend to use him, but he isn't dead. If you read closely it said he would have been dead, if he wasn't Lionel's son. This was intended to be a hint that Lionel isn't all that he seems. I'll be getting into more of that later.

I had Xavier room Clark with Scott because he is used to expecting the best from his first students. He also relies on them a lot when it comes to the other teens. It never occurred to him that there would be a real problem and he still believes it to be one that is easily fixed. At least on Scott's end.

I hope I didn't disappoint too much with my portrayal of Chloe. Again, it has been a long time since I watched Smallville (if she's even still on it, I understand a lot of characters aren't anymore) and I tried to write her the way I remember. If anyone knows something I have forgotten about her, please share. Or if I really messed her up, feel free to flame. Just include what I did wrong so I can try to correct it.

I'm sorry it took so long to get this out. I've been beating my head on the wall a lot lately.


	9. Chapter 9 Working

Chapter 8: Working

Saturday morning while Scott was tromping through the woods and Jean was winning another soccer game, Lois Lane was back at the mansion with Storm, practicing her gift. Arrayed on the table before her were several seemingly random articles, from car keys to a stuffed teddy bear. Each had been collected from a different person, some only that morning, others having been kept in storage for several days.

In turn she took each in hand, trying to draw images from them. The goal, to identify to whom they belonged. The first attempt had been the car keys, Scott's. He was so emotionally attached to his car that she felt confident she could have identified them even if they had been left alone for days.

That was the trick with her gift. Items recently handled she could do easy, but the longer an object had gone untouched the harder it was. Except were strong emotions were involved. The energy of strong emotions, both positive like with the car keys, or negative like that morning in the dinning room when Clark first saw Kurt in all his blue furred glory, left a stronger imprint on an object. The stronger the emotion, the longer after the fact she could still draw images.

Practices such as this, often with the Professor's mental guidance, had increased how long after she could draw the images considerably over what she had been able to do when she first arrived just a month ago. It annoyed her to consider what she might now be capable of if she had taken Xavier up on his offer two years ago.

Shrugging off her regrets as irrelevant, there being nothing she could do to change the past, she moved on like the General taught her by reaching for the next item. It was the teddy bear and it proved to be a difficult puzzle. There were very strong emotions attached to the toy, mostly affection, but it was cold and dimmed with age. She could tell that the stuffed animals owner had handled it within the last few days, but the attachment was now more neutral, indifferent.

"The person who owns this...they aren't a child anymore, are they?" She asked Storm.

Ororo studied Lois for a second, trying to determine if the question was born from her abilities, or from the inquisitive girl's considerable skills of deduction. "No, the person who owns this is not a child anymore. Did you get that from reading the impressions they left behind?"

Lois carefully considered what she was going to say before answering, not really sure if she had or not. "Yes...err, not entirely. There are strong emotional ties to the bear, but their old, faded. The new impressions aren't very strong in comparison. Too weak for me to use. Like this was a childhood toy, a loved possession, but now just a sentimental keepsake. At least, that is what it seems like to me. I can't draw any images from it, just a feeling of love turned to neglect."

"A bit of both then." Ororo says, giving her a smile of approval. "That is very good. You are learning to use your gift even when there isn't much to work with. You are correct, this bear belongs to Kitty. Her grandmother gave it to her on her fourth birthday and her mother sent it with her to keep her company, but now it just sits on her dresser, a place to keep her sunglasses."

Placing the bear back on the table, Storm directed Lois' attention to the next item on the table, careful not to touch it herself. "What about this one?" She asked. "Can you draw anything from it?"

It was a worn leather wallet, battered and dirty. It looked like it had been tossed on the ground and left out in the weather for several days. Lois cringed at the thought of touching it. Studying it, she found a spot that was devoid of both motor oil stains and mold before picking it up. She had no sooner picked it up then she reflexively threw it across the room, getting it as far away from her as possible. The emotional impressions were old, older than anything she had ever read before, but they were also extremely strong, powerful enough to nearly bring her to tears. The ragged wallet was liberally soaked in fear and horror, followed by rage and bloodlust.

Storm reached out and grasped the girl by the hand, the tension in the skin around her eyes betraying her concern. "Are you alright Lois?" She asks, shaking her a little to draw a response.

Squeezing Ororo's hand tightly in return, Lois struggles to pull herself together, reigning in her own emotional response to what she just witnessed. Still a little shaken, she tries to explain what she saw.

"There was an attack...the person this wallet belongs to...they kept hitting him over and over again, filling him with pain and fear before taking it."

Anger at the pointless brutality of it poured into her, breaking her out of her shock.

"There were three of them and they beat him nearly to death. There wasn't any reason for it, they didn't have to...they did it because they enjoyed it. It was a rush."

Voice carefully modulated, tones soothing, Storm asks her "Can you see their faces? Do you think you could identify them if need be?"

The anger on Lois' face sharpened, giving way to determination. "Yes, I can. Where's the Professor, if he takes the images from my mind then maybe we can find them, stop them before they do it again."

Seeing the tension in her form, her hands curling up into white knuckled fists, Storm isn't at all sure Lois was referring to calling the cops.

"That won't be necessary." She told her. "The men were arrested two days later trying to use their victim's credit cards. They have in fact, already been tried and sentenced."

Lois looked confused as that sank in. "What...but that takes time, weeks or even..."

"Months?" Storm finished for her. "Yes Lois, in fact the attack you witnessed happened more than a year ago. The man the wallet belonged to has returned home to his family, totally recovered, at least physically."

"A year? It...but it was so strong, like it just happened...I mean, I've never seen anything like that before." Releasing Storm's hand, Lois unconsciously wraps her arms around herself, struggling to hold in the shudders that are racing down her spine.

Stepping closer, Storm places a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that Lois, but Professor Xavier felt it would be best if it happened here at the mansion then for your first such encounter to be out there, on the street somewhere. It's alright Lois, if you want to talk about it I'm here."

Forcing her body to relax, Lois gives her a strained smile. "No, I'm fine. Really." Seeing the disbelief in Storm's eyes, she rushes to explain "I grew up on army bases you know, I'm no stranger to violence. Been around it all my life."

Shaking her head, Storm says "There is a difference between soldiers training for war and one man trying to kill another Lois. Don't try to tell me that you aren't bothered by this."

Lois surrenders, giving her head a rueful shake. "Okay, alright. I admit it, it bothers me and I wish I had never had to experience it, but I'm okay. I'll deal with it, nothing to worry about." Muttering under her breath, Lois quietly adds "I might not sleep for awhile."

Ororo didn't always agree with Charles' methods, she certainly didn't agree with exposing a teenager to the kind of violence embodied in that wallet, but she does trust his judgment so she goes along. That doesn't stop her from wishing there had been another way.

Deciding to change the subject, she asks "What about the other technique the Professor has you working on? How is that going?"

"Okay I guess." Lois answers with a shrug. "I've been trying to practice but it's not like I can try it on anyone but the Prof and it doesn't really work on him. Besides, it's not like I can actually hurt someone with it, just confuse them for a little while. I've studied Kempo and Tai Kwan Do, even a little Judo, so I don't really need it anyway. If I have a problem with somebody, I'll just deal with them the old fashioned way. With my fists the way the General taught me. I'm not a shrinking violet you know."

Seeing the overconfident smirk on Lois' face, Storm tries once again to impress upon her the importance of learning how to use her gift to defend herself. "What if your opponent is someone like Fred Dukes? Do you think your fists will be enough against someone like him?" Storm isn't thinking about Dukes, her mind instead drifting to Charles' step brother, Cain.

Lois has never met Cain, the worst she has ever seen is Fred. "No problem." She says. "I can run circles around Fred. The fat lard will never lay a hand on me."

Shaking her head, Ororo asks "What if you are not the one he is after. What if he is after someone who can't run away? What would you do to protect them?"

Giving in, again, Lois says "Okay, okay. I'll keep practicing. It would be a whole lot easier if I had someone to try it on you know. I can only get so far doing mental shadow boxing with the Prof."

"I'm sure that once Professor Xavier is confident that you are ready, he will let you practice with someone else. Probably Logan." She adds with an amused smile.

Chuckling, Lois replies "Yea, if I can get through that metal plated dome of his."

Forcing a smile, Ororo makes a sweeping gesture towards the table. "Are you ready to continue?"

Viewing the remaining items on the table nervously, Lois lightly chews upon her lower lip before answering. "Yea. I...let's do this. I'm ready."

"Wonderful." Storm says with another smile, but she doesn't really feel that way. She is just glad there are no more surprises hiding among the remaining objects. "How about this one?"

****

It was late afternoon/early evening by the time the club wagon van pulled up the drive to the mansion and within minutes it was empty, most of the occupants having fled the scene before Logan even exited the vehicle.

Tabitha grabbed Kurt, saying something about hitting the mall before dinner. Rhane was anxious to check on Roberto. It wasn't a conscious thing but in her mind he and a few of the other new students had already become part of her pack. As for Scott, he said something about finding Jean to congratulate her on what he was sure was another victory for the Bayville Hawks girls soccer team.

Clark has only been at the institute for a week but even he could tell that the bespectacled boy was pining after the quarterback's girl. He should have felt pity, or even derision for Scott's unrequited love, but for some reason it just left him feeling uncomfortable.

"Give me a hand here Kent."

Turning from the door through which his classmates had disappeared in such a rush, Clark saw Logan standing at the back of the van. True, the others had grabbed their own bags, but that left the tents and other camping gear to be unloaded, cleaned and stowed away. Moving to help, Clark didn't feel any resentment about being left to clean up. After all, given how late he had been to leave on this unscheduled little jaunt he hadn't helped with the preparations or packing. It only seemed fair that he shoulder the burden of putting everything away to make up for it. Maybe it was growing up on a farm, or being all too aware of how fortunate he had been, but he lacked the selfish streak that was so common in the teenage years.

That finished, Clark grabbed his school bag, heading up to his room to unpack his own things. Entering the room he shares with Scott he finds the other boy's bag tossed casually onto his bed, the bedding still a blackened mess. Scott hadn't even paused long enough to unpack before racing off to find Jean. A chill running down his back, feeling as if someone had just stepped on his grave, Clark studiously turned his thoughts to something other than his roommate's defunct love life. Like the computer, he still hasn't checked his e-mail and he was confident there would be at least one message from Chloe and maybe even Pete waiting for him.

He was right.

A letter from Pete was waiting for him, detailing his friend's own first week at a new school. Pete talked about his classes, getting on the soccer team, and his new girlfriend. Happy for his friend, Clark reread the letter a second time just to vicariously enjoy his friend's good fortune.

His second letter, the one from Chloe, went nothing like he expected. He expected an excited exposition on her first week working at the school paper and the Las Vegas Sun. He expected a ribbing about his own letter, even he recognized that he put more than a little whine in it. He hadn't expected her letter to start with a 'My god, you've meet Lois!' that took him completely by surprise. She went on to explain that Lois was her cousin, their mothers having been sisters, and that they had little direct contact after Chloe's mother left and Lois' passed away.

Clark hadn't known that Lois' mother was gone and he felt a twinge of grief for her loss. Now her behavior was starting to make a little more sense. He was also seeing disturbing similarities between the two girls. Both are extremely out going, resistant to social pressure, held a disdain for what was considered desirable or even sometimes acceptable behavior, and most of all, both ignored his signals that he wanted to be left alone and bullied their way into his life. For a moment, just the infinitesimal fraction of a second it took for him to realize what he was thinking and squash it like a bug, he wondered if Lois could be just as good a friend as Chloe.

****

Monday morning Lois was one of the first to rise, years of living on military bases having drummed the habit into her. She would normally start her day with a jog around the grounds, followed by an hour in the gym. This usually meant that in spite of her being early to awaken, she would be one of the last to arrive at the table for breakfast. On this Monday morning it was raining, the storm having followed Scott and the others east to the mansion before deciding to settle in for several days. Given this, Lois decided to skip her morning constitutional and remain indoors. Her experience with the wallet had indeed disturbed her sleep and she hadn't enjoyed more than a few hours either Saturday or Sunday night. Weighed down by fatigue, she decided to call it quits after only a short time in the gym. Her normal routine disrupted and unable to return to sleep, she wandered the mansion aimlessly until she bumped into one of the institute's other early risers, Clark.

Meeting him in the entry hall, she couldn't contain an amused smile at the sight of his faded jeans, heavy work boots and worn flannel shirt. He truly looked like he was headed out to work on the farm. Only the presence of the school bag riding his left shoulder indicating differently.

Still unsure of what to make of the brunette, even given Chloe's revelation that Lois is her cousin, he gave her a tentative greeting in passing. Moving by her he hesitated, seeing the signs of obvious fatigue hanging over the normally vivacious girl like a shroud. "Are you okay Lois?" He asks, unable to ignore her distress.

Lois felt a pleasant warmth spread through her at his concern, even as she brushed it off. "Peachy Smallville."

At his look of disbelief, she added "You weren't the only one who trained this weekend you know. I'm just a little tired is all, but other than that I'm fine."

"I don't know Lois, maybe you should talk to Miss Monroe. Exhaustion can leave you susceptible to getting sick."

"I don't need a mother Clark, but if it will help keep your panties from getting into a knot I will probably skip school today." Arching one eyebrow, her voice carrying a teasing edge, she added "You do realize that if I don't go, you will be stuck riding with Jean and her macho beau?"

Giving her a bemused smile of his own, he returned "Then it's a good thing I'm heading into town early today."

"Really? What is it Smallville, you got the hots for one of your teachers? I never would have guessed that Mr. McCoy was your type."

"Very funny Lois. Just to satisfy your curiosity and head off your over active imagination, I'll tell you. While I was gone Saturday one of the places I applied at called back. I figured I would swing by there before school, see if I got the job."

"A job? What's wrong Smallville, Xavier charging you rent or something?"

A scowl for his answer and tossing her a 'later', he passed through the doors and out of the mansion.

Shrugging, Lois decided to visit the kitchen, see if she could find herself a snack before breakfast. Yawning, she wondered if Mrs. Monroe had made coffee yet.

****

It was not yet six in the morning when Clark reached the end of the drive and since both his eyes and ears told him that no one was on the road that passed by Xavier's mansion, he decided that it was safe to run, so he did. His senses alert for cars and people, Clark ran down the lonely stretch of highway winding its way through the trees until he reached the outer edges of Bayville proper. Here he had to slow down to a normal human pace. There were just too many buildings, too much traffic and too much chance of someone looking his way to continue at speed. He may have accepted that he didn't need to hide, well at least not everything, from the others at the institute, but he still had to keep up appearances for everyone else. Strangely enough he realized that it was even more important to do so now than it ever was before. Now it wasn't just his secrets he was keeping, but those of everyone else at Xavier's little school. If he was exposed then they would be too and even Xavier wasn't optimistic enough to believe the world of normal people was ready to accept mutants living among them, much less an alien.

Even traveling at a reduced speed it didn't take him long to arrive at the building housing the Bayville Journal, the local newspaper. Thanks to working with Chloe on the Torch he was somewhat familiar with the workings of a newspaper, had even written a few articles himself, but he wasn't looking for a job as a reporter. No, what most people didn't realize was that the offices of the Bayville Journal did more than produce their own paper with local news, they also worked as a distribution point for several larger papers; the New York Times, Gotham Gazette, New York Financial and the Post. About the only major papers they didn't work with were the USA Today and the Daily Planet. Every morning, long before the sun arrived, a truck loaded down with stacks of the various papers did. All of those papers had to be unloaded and divided among smaller trucks and vehicles. One of the many steps between the printing press and the front steps of thousands of Americans. With so many papers on the move, they were always in the market for more warm bodies to work the loading dock.

That was the job Clark had applied for, simple laborer. It paid eight bucks an hour for around two hours a day, five days a week. The members of the crew overlapped to cover the sixth and seventh day. The work day started at four in the morning in order to get all of those papers on those porches in time for people to read them over breakfast. Which is why the paper found it so hard to fill those positions. Ungodly hours and only a limited number of them, meant that most people looked somewhere else for employment.

For Clark it couldn't be more perfect. Growing up on the farm he was used to starting early and he didn't need as much sleep to begin with. On top of that, in New York state a student was only allowed to work up to twenty hours while in the public school system. Five days at nearly two hours a day fit the bill nicely. It would provide him with income and something productive to do with his time, while not interfering with school or activities at the institute. If necessary he could even arrange days off, with enough warning. Half an hour later Clark left with a new job and some time to kill before classes started for the day. With nothing better to do, he decided to head to the high school. Maybe he would look up the school paper. It wouldn't be the Torch but it might be fun.

****

When the sun came up over Metropolis, it found the man known to the world as Lionel Luthor in his office at Luthor Tower. Ignoring the glory of the rising orb behind him, lighting the harbor, Lionel was reading over a report from Excavation Site 446. It was far to the north, hundreds of miles from even the most remote outpost of civilization. Far enough away that he hadn't bothered with applying for a permit with the Canadian government under whose jurisdiction it fell. Just secreted equipment and personnel there and without further fanfare started digging through the remains of what was once Asteroid M, the secret stronghold of Eric Lensherr, the mutant calling himself Magneto.

The once great mass of stone had been shattered into more than a thousand pieces, the largest of which were still the size of a Greyhound bus. Excitement rushed through him at the thought of how much power would have been required to reduce the once intimidating monument to Magneto's plans into the scattered graveyard of his dreams. Maybe even the site of his grave. Not even Luthor's vast information network had been able to find any clue to the self proclaimed Master of Magnetism's current whereabouts.

Lionel's people weren't looking for Eric's remains, though he would love to get his hands on them, they were searching for something else; the fabled gems of Cyttorak. They had been searching for two months now. Sifting, sometimes mining their way through the asteroid's rocky remains. So far all they had to show for it was the twisted remnants of machinery and metal that once supported Magneto's machinations. Worse, they found signs that they weren't the first to search the remains. Someone else had already combed the ruins and though their search was no were near as thorough, they got there first and there was no way to tell what they took with them when they left.

Lionel is a patient man, a man of far reaching vision, but he has been seeking the gems for decades and found the possibility that they had slipped through his fingers a source of severe frustration. He didn't know who had searched the remains, didn't even know the identities of those responsible for the asteroid's destruction. If his people failed to find the stones now, this would be just one more dead end on the road to tomorrow. A dead end that he would fill with more than a few bodies if necessary.

Author's notes:

There have been a few comments about possible pairings for Clark. All I can say is that I don't fancy myself having a prayer at writing a good romance, so I have no plans to place him in a serious relationship. I do hope to bounce him off of several of the girls as he realizes that there is a place for him with the X-Men, but nothing more than flirting and a few dates. He is only fifteen after all and this is New York, not Kentucky.

Silverwing brought up several points, two of which I can clarify, the rest are still up in the air.

The timing of this story is the same as the first year of Smallville. It starts during the summer before the show, diverging before Lex arrived in Smallville. If I have Clark's age wrong then it's because I don't know any better. It has been years since I watched the show, much less seen the very first episodes. Right now I'm using a twisted combination of Lionel and one of the X-Men characters as my main villain and until he is gone there just isn't a place for Lex in this story.

Kryptonite does stimulate the dormant X-gene present in normal people, effectively turning them into mutants. You are right, it would be of interest to Magneto and any number of villains ( Including Lionel ). In this world it is rare, so there won't be a freak of the week in Smallville. Most of it won't even be found in Smallville, but will arise in a way and in places that makes more sense to me. I do plan on Clark's first encounter with the deadly rock taking place in Smallville with a meteor fragment. I will say that the gems of Cyttorak are not made of Kryptonite, though I did consider it. Their role should be obvious to anyone who watched Smallville.

All I can say about Lana is that she will not become Clark's girlfriend. Anything else is still up in the air, including the possibility of her marrying Lex.

I have to agree with Exodus5, too often Clark is written up as an idiot and I'm not just referring to fan fiction. Honestly, how many times does the villain have to hide Kryptonite in a lead box before Superman learns to view all lead boxes with suspicion? Superman is supposed to have an IQ that puts Lex in the basement, so why doesn't he ever use it? I hope to do better, at least portraying him as being able to learn from experience and think strategically.

Thanks again to everyone who has given me feedback on this story. I do have two favors to ask.

First; when and in what order did Clark's other abilities arise? Knowing that might make it easier to work them into my story.

Second; any suggestions on possible training exercises would be greatly appreciated, especially ones involving the danger room.


	10. Chapter 10 Dangerous Games

Chapter 9: Dangerous Games

"Hey Clark."

Clark Kent looks up from where his school books are spread out upon the dinning room table, towards the hallway entrance to see who had called him. Normally he did his homework in his room but right now his roommate was using their computer and web cam to talk to his brother Alex in Hawaii. Jean had told Clark about Alex, and about how he and Scott had been separated as children in the plane crash that claimed their parents. Each believed that it had also claimed the other and only discovered differently last year. Now they spoke often, trying to make up for lost time. She said there was even a chance Alex might come to the institute, he was also a mutant, just like his brother.

Clark didn't have any siblings but he always wondered what it would be like. Maybe then he wouldn't have felt so alone growing up. Feeling sympathetic and more than a little envious, he allowed Scott his privacy and retreated to the dinning room table to do his homework. It wasn't like it took him very long. He had already read the book and now that he wasn't working so hard to hide what he is capable of he could write up a six page report in under twelve minutes.

Looking towards the entrance he finds the widely grinning face of Evan Daniels staring back at him from beneath his bleach blonde top. For once the boy was without his skate board.

Clark's observations were cut short by a 'bampf' and the smell of brimstone as a furry blue devil appeared atop the table, crouching over his homework.

"Social and Economic Reconstruction in the Post Civil War South. Aw man, are you lucky ve are here to save you." Kurt says, reading the title on the top of Clark's paper. "Dis is sooo boring." Unconsciously seeking something more interesting, Kurt picks up Clark's dice from the table and starts rolling them in his three fingered hand.

Clark had to agree, but it was also necessary if he was going to fit in.

"Yea, but it's also due Friday."

"Friday?" Evans interrupts, his voice filled with incredulity. "Dude, do you need to relax. I mean, it's only Wednesday, you have like two more days to finish it."

Two more days? Clark had to question the other boys math skills.

Kurt drops the dice onto the table with a clatter, before hopping down from the table to stand beside his friend and classmate. "Come my friend, ve have homework that is vay more fun."

Clark gives the other boys a look, eyes filled with skepticism. "What kind of homework?"

"The X-Men kind." Evans answers while causing three spikes to emerge from the skin on the back of his hand in mimicry of Logan's claws, claws Clark has yet to see. "The Prof didn't bring us here just to learn our ABC's, but to learn to use our really cool powers to; save the world, kiss babies, hug trees. You know, hero stuff."

Kurt grabs the shoulders of Clark's shirt, attempting to pull the larger boy from his chair. "Vhich is vhy ve are here for you. Is time to train in the Danger Room."

Clark wasn't sure he liked the sound of this. "What is the Danger Room?"

"Oh man!" Evans practically gushed. "It is only the coolest video game ever!"

Kurt interrupts with; "The Danger Room can make anything you imagine real."

"Or at least anything Forge can imagine and that dude has one twisted imagination." Evans adds.

"Who's Forge?" Clark asks, not sure if he is following the hyper duo.

"Oh, he's like a reject from the seventies. Kurt here found him living in a bubble and the Prof brought him back. He's the one who programs the Danger Room."

"Forge is okay." Kurt says, rising to his absent friend's defense. "He is a techno genius. If you vant it, he can make it."

"Yeah, okay." Evans responds with a dismissive wave. "Still, the Danger Room is something you have to experience to truly appreciate it. So come on before aunty O gets impatient and comes looking for us."

****

Las Vegas lies in the Intermountain time zone, two hours behind New York and Sierra Vista High was just getting out for the day. As Clark is being led deeper into the mysteries of the Xavier Institute, Chloe is again watching her fellow students funnel their way through the courtyard after school.

She had hoped for a better assignment then the school dress code, what she got was a write up on the French Club's annual summer trip to Paris. Visiting the city of love might be exciting, reading about some mousy nerd girl's impressions of the Louve isn't. Chloe has big dreams, no less then being a star reporter for the Daily Planet, and the kind of 'safe' stories her advisor was assigning her weren't going to cut the mustard.

She was absently watching out of the second story window when she saw something that might, or should I say someone. There walking alone across the checkerboard concrete is Robert Wardell, one of Sierra Vista's least kept secrets. Robert is one of the school's 'Go To' guys. As in if you are looking for some chemical recreation, go to Robert, he can hook you up.

Every school has at least one, even Smallville did, the resident dealer, the only variation being the variety of what they had to offer. According to Rumor Robert has a lot, including Ecstasy. Word on the down low was that no less then two girls had already fallen victim to the infamous date rape drug and the school year had just started.

Now that was a story worth investigating.

If she could find out who his supplier is, backtrack the source of his supply, if she could write a story that led to a major drug bust, that would be a story to launch her career. In comparison, what she was writing now would be lucky to lead to a job writing advertisements for local small business.

Like any great investigative journalist Chloe has a gift for seeing the potential in any given story, and a dearth of common sense when it comes to her own personal safety. With nary a thought she snatches up her jacket and purse from the back of her chair and makes her way towards the door, steps quick and filled with purpose.

"Hey, where' you going?" Alex calls out to her from his own desk, looking up from typing up his interview with the assistant coach of the boy's swim team.

"To follow a lead." She calls out, walking through the door, never looking back.

****

Kurt and Evans led Clark into one of the mansion's elevators, one far from the front entrance. Clark had never been inside the elevators, foregoing them in favor of the stairs which were quicker, and so has never before seen that included among the buttons for the different floors is a subtly placed finger print identification pad. Evans places his thumb upon it, causing the doors to close and the elevator to start descending. If the passage of time was a reliable indicator they were traveling much further than should be required to reach the basement. Which, by the way, has its own button no finger print required. When the doors finally open Clark finds himself looking down a hall that is straight out of a science fiction film from the sixties and seventies. The walls of the hall are curved, like a tube, with only the floor being flat. They are also lined with stainless steel sheathing. Clark half expected some crazed man in a long white lab coat to come down the hall screaming that the monkey had escaped, while quarantine doors would start slamming down blocking all routes of escape. In other words, it doesn't look the least bit inviting.

Not seeming at all perturbed by their environment, Kurt and Evans leave the elevator. Clark follows a little more hesitatingly. He's had nightmares about places like this. Following the others down a couple of turns and past several cross hallways, Clark finds himself in of all things, a locker room. A couple of questions about size and Kurt is shoving a pile of dark gray workout clothes into his hands, while Evans adds some high top running shoes. Then the two turn to change themselves, pulling odd looking outfits out of lockers bearing their names.

Kurt's outfit looks like a cross between a ninja's stealth suit and a circus costume, like he should be walking the high wire. Evans, on the other hand, looks like he is wearing some sort of combat dress uniform from the army. It even has armored elements on the shins, shoulders and forearms. Both outfits are emblazoned over the heart with an 'X' in a circle. Clark's sweat shirt has the same in white.

"Clark," Evans was working the buckles on his knee high combat boots. "did you see that 'Lord of the Ring' movie? You know, the one with the little guys with furry feet."

"The Tolkien movies? Yea, I saw them. I read the books when I was younger. Why?"

"You read the books?" Evans stares at him in disbelief. "What, don't they have TV where you come from?"

"Yes." Clark answers a little defensively. "We even have paved roads and telephone service. I come from Kansas, not Timbuktu."

"Hey, no offense man." Evans waves his hands before his chest in denial. "I just can't believe anybody actually read those books is all. I mean, they're like five hundred pages long, each. Who would waste time reading something like that."

"Forge." Kurt answered in spite of it being a rhetorical question.

"Well, yea, but Forge is weird. The guy wears tie dye t-shirts."

Kurt laughs. "Yea, vhen I met him he vas veering bell bottoms."

Clark has yet to meet Forge, so he reserved comment. "Why are you asking about my taste in books?"

"Well, Forge programmed most of the simulations in the Danger Room and the one we're going to run is based off that movie, or maybe book. I don't know, I never read it. It was a good movie though. Anyway, in the simulation we have to make our way up this gigantic stone tower with this big flaming eye on top. There are traps and ugly monsters and stuff."

They had been walking down one of the tubular halls during this conversation and now they stopped in front of a large circular steel door, the reinforcing on which resembled a large metal 'X' stretching across its surface.

"So far nobody has beat it, not even Logan and aunty O."

Reaching out to a control panel mounted beside the door, Evans pushes a button next to an intercom speaker.

"Hey aunty O, we're here. Can we go in yet?"

"Not yet Evans," The voice of Ms. Monroe answers back from the speaker. "The others are not finished yet. Wait...( sigh ) okay, Kitty is down, they're done."

With the hiss of pneumatic pistons, the door splits down the middle of the 'X', the two halves withdrawing into the walls. Beyond the door Clark sees a large domed chamber occupied only by three of the sorriest looking teens he has ever seen; Kitty Pryde, Amara Aquilla and Bobby Drake. Wearing uniforms similar to Evans', they look like they've been run through the wringer. Limping past, Kitty wishes them luck.

"What kind of simulation is this?" Clark asks, nervously.

"Chill out man." Evans responds, thumping him on the chest. "We are strong men, just cause the girls and Ice Cube couldn't handle it don't mean we can't. Relax, you have the Spike man to protect you."

Kurt slaps his friend on the back while walking past him into the room. "Then you my friend, can lead the vay."

Following into the room, Clark carefully studies the empty floor and bare walls of the domed chamber. The only thing breaking the monotony of form, what looks like the top of an air traffic control tower mounted in the ceiling at the apex of the dome.

"Are you boys ready?" Ororo's voice echoes down from the tower.

"Sure thing aunty O, hit us!"

Clark's eyes open wide in wonder as movie magic takes the place of reality.

****

Chloe quickly runs into a snag when it comes to following her lead. Namely, he has a car and she doesn't. Watching him drive away in an I-Rock Camaro, she writes his plate number down in a small note pad she keeps handy for just such purposes. For a moment she fumes about the unfairness of it all. She can't even get a driver's license yet and that drug dealing scum already has his own car, and they say crime doesn't pay. Well it does, at least until someone like her kicks the legs out from under you.

Her mind racing through other possible routes of investigation, Chloe heads back into the school and the newspaper room.

"I thought you left." Alex says as she settles in her seat across from him. "How did that lead turn out?"

"It didn't." She answers with a petulant pout. "I need a car and I don't happen to have one. Do you?"

He shakes his head no. "I don't get my license for two more weeks. Remember, my birthday is next Thursday."

Chloe had forgotten, but she isn't about to tell him that. What kind of friend would that make her look like. Besides, her story doesn't actually have a time limit and in two weeks he would be able to drive.

"You know Alex, you might be able to help me with my investigation."

"Really?" He asks, eyebrow raised in curiosity mixed with suspicion. "How?"

"Well..." She couldn't just admit she only needs him for his ability to drive, she needs something that flatters him a little. "For starters, do you know how to use a camera?"

****

Clark flew across the room, slamming into a stone wall hard enough to stun even him. The chamber he is in is half the length of a football field and only slightly narrower. Stone columns of basalt stone, four feet in diameter, support the ceiling that lies so far above his head that he can barely see it in the flickering fire light coming from the oil filled bowls mounted high up their sides. Charging across the room towards him is the twenty foot tall monstrosity that just sent him flying, menacingly swinging an eight foot long oak and metal wrapped cudgel with a Clark shaped dent in it. Its head is too small for its muscular body, with large deep set eyes and only slits where its nose should be. It has teeth though, big jagged ones in desperate need of cleaning.

When the Danger Room simulation first began Clark had been overwhelmed. He watched in amazement as the bare room seemed to disappear, an endless plane of broken rock and smoky haze rolling over it and him.

"Remember boys, your greatest strength lies in your minds, not your muscles." Ms Monroe's voices spoke out of the ether, then was gone. The air now filled with the low murmur of an endless number of voices that hit their ears like waves washing against the beach, a constant yet meaningless wash of static that ate at the nerves.

It was impossible; he could see it, hear it, feel it, he could even smell it and yet he knows none of it is real. Behind the glamour and movie magic there lay bare metal walls with very limited dimensions.

"How...how is this possible?" He asks, his voice weak with awe.

"Don't know." Evans answers, waving one hand over his spiky blonde hair. "Forge tried to explain it once, but it went right over my head."

"Is like magic." Kurt adds. "Don't try to understand, just enjoy the ride."

Looking out over the shadowed land spread before him, Clark sees a massive volcano in the distance belching smoke and fire into the heavens. Between him and it, like the hilt of a knife with its blade driven into the ground, stood a dark tower of unimaginable size. Behind it a large crack spread from its base to the side of the volcano, looking disturbingly like a jagged wound carved into the earth as if by that very blade. Atop the tower, like a jewel mounted on the end of the hilt, was a great ball of fire with no source or fuel beyond a palpable feeling of hate and malevolence. Like a great eye, it cast its baleful gaze across the land, searching the far horizon. The whole thing made Clark feel very small, like a hobbit. He felt just like he was in the book.

Drawing his eyes from its lofty heights, his eyes fell upon the sea of forms that lay between him and the tower. A seemingly endless horde of orcs and goblins, spreading across the plane like a pestilence.

The first part of the trial, reaching the tower, had proven deceptively easy. With Kurt's ability to line of sight teleport, they had simply hop scotched their way from one rocky out cropping to another. Only twice were they even seen by the forces that stood between them and the tower, goblins that were quickly dealt with by Evans' thrown spikes. Given the foul nature of the host surrounding them, it was likely any goblins that found the bodies would believe them victims of their own kind.

Nearing the base of the tower, Clark's sharp eyes found a high stone parapet and Kurt teleported them to it. There weren't many guards upon its length and again Evans' spikes quickly dealt with most of them. Clark took care of one, smashing it against the stone wall with enough force to shatter bone. He shuddered at the sound of its impact. He knew in his mind it wasn't real, but the part of him that never wanted to hurt anyone cringed at how real it felt. He actually felt a sliver of guilt for killing a fictional character that didn't even have a name. Reminding himself that this was just a game, same as the ones he used to play at Pete's house, he pushed his squeamishness aside and followed his companions into the heart of darkness.

From that point on it had been anything but easy.

Passing from one dimly lit room to another, they fought their way through wave after wave of slavering enemies.

Evans quickly claimed a tower shield from an orc with a white hand print on its face. He hid behind the wood and bronze barrier as arrows planted themselves into its front until it resembled the hide of a porcupine. He fired off spikes, taking down opponents, until he grew too fatigued to continue and was forced to abandon the shield in favor of one long spike which he wielded like a pole arm.

Kurt relied upon his speed and agility to avoid the flights of arrows, teleporting among the archers, his attacks ending their assault.

Clark ignored the volleys of arrows, the others watching in amazement as they shattered against his flesh like falling rain. Charging his opponents, their steel weapons harmlessly battering him on all sides, Clark went through the orcs like a force of nature, implacable and relentless.

The seemingly endless numbers of the enemy made it slow going and even Clark was beginning to feel the strain, but still they grew cocky, increasingly convinced that they were going to make it all the way to the top. That was before they entered this cavernous chamber deep within the stone monolith.

Kurt was the first to fall.

Goblins had come crawling down the columns like spiders, attacking them from above. Kurt had quickly carried the battle to the enemy. His agility superior to his opponents, he was knocking them lose, sending them to their deaths on the stone floor below. He was hooting and hollering, his blood racing with the excitement of it all, when what could only be described as twisted bat like creatures came shooting out of the gloom above. They took him right out of the air, their talons slashing across his fur covered flesh like knives. With a pain filled cry of surprise, Kurt faded from sight as the Danger Room systems declared him dead, removing him from the simulation.

Without Kurt to bedevil them, the goblins came pouring down in a suicidal torrent upon Clark and Evans where they stood on the floor below.

Evans fought hard, sweeping the goblins aside with his bone grown pole arm. Until a falling goblin managed to impale itself upon its point, his body weighing it down, making it impossible for the exhausted boy to swing it any more. Summoning all of the energy he had left Evans gave one last effort, spikes growing from his body at all angles to rip into the leathery flesh of his attackers. It wasn't enough and soon the dark skinned boy disappeared under a mound of his felled and flailing opponents.

Clark fared better, sweeping his opponents away with his arms. When he saw Evans falling beneath the weight of the enemy he rushed to his aid, smashing through the goblins like a ram, until his desperate flight was redirected by that eight foot club. Now he knew what the ball felt like in a game of Cricket.

Sliding down the wall he landed on shaky legs. Forcing himself to ignore the ache in his bones, he looked for Evans but he was no where to be found. The Danger Room had already removed him from the simulation.

That didn't mean Clark was alone though, for company was racing towards him with the force of a rampaging elephant. The ogre, club raised above its head, mouth open in a raging scream, spittle flying before it like acid rain, carelessly crushing spider goblins beneath its feet, was rushing towards him.

The battle that followed can only be described as titanic. The remaining goblins were ignored, unworthy of the attention of either opponent, serving only to tangle their feet. Clark used his superior speed to dart within the defenses of his towering foe, unleashing hammering blows upon its shins. The ogre was proving to be far from helpless. Wielding its club, it used its superior size and reach to great effect, striking Clark several times with blows that sent him smashing into the stone columns that littered the room, spreading cracks through the hard basalt stone, causing flakes to rain down upon him. The ogre attempted to follow up on one such blow by crushing Clark between its own mass and that of the damaged column he had just struck. Pushing past the shock of the blow, Clark darted out of the ogre's path, leaving it to strike the column alone. Clark was just preparing to jump upon the stunned giants back, hoping that several blows to its thick skull would prove more effective then the ones to its heavily muscled legs, when both he and it were taken out by the one opponent they had both ignored; the battlefield itself.

When the ogres moving mass struck the already damaged column, the porous stone sheared, the loss of support from below causing the stone above to break loose from its anchor in the distant ceiling. The resulting shower of stone fragments crushed the ogre like a bug. Unfortunately for Clark, who was just drawing a breath of relief, the effect on the floor was equally devastating. As the falling fragments smashed through the floor, the resulting cracks spread, robbing other columns of their support from beneath, their own weight causing them to also break loose from the ceiling until they were falling as well. With them came pieces of that distant ceiling and even more columns, which did even more damage to the battered floor. All of this added up to a cascade effect that brought down a large chunk of the tower. Unfortunately for Clark, it came down on him.

The floor gave out beneath his feet, his arms flying up over his head in a futile effort to protect it from the falling stone, when first his butt, then his back, shoulders and finally head came to rest upon bare metal with a slight thud.

His mind caught up in the confusing juxtaposition of leaving the falling tower for an empty room, by the time Clark could make sense of what he was seeing there was a ring of grinning faces looking down on him. The simulation was over, they lost to the tower.

Kitty, Amara and Bobby had put off cleaning up after their own attempt to join Ororo in the tower to watch and they were soon joined by Logan who the Professor had asked to oversee Clark's training.

This meant that along with Kurt and Evans, there was Kitty, Amara, Bobby, Ms Monroe and Logan now looking down upon his prone form. Grinning, Kurt and Evans both took hold of an arm, lifting him to his feet.

The Danger Room was programmed to push its occupants to the limit of their ability to resist, adjusting as it went along, leaving them bruised and battered but with no serious injuries to speak of. This meant that they looked and felt battered, and so did their uniforms. Evans' was the worst, his battle suit well aerated by his last ditch effort of covering himself with spikes. To Clark's embarrassment his own ability to resist far exceeded that of his clothing, which was weaker than the other's uniforms to start with. The end result was that though the work out suit afforded his modesty more protection than the average pair of swim trunks, the tattered nature of their remains gave the impression of actually providing far less.

Logan and the other boys broke out in laughter at Clark's appearance, while the girls grew flushed as blood and teenage hormones rushed to their heads. Even Ororo gave him an appreciative looking over.

Clark would later learn to his eternal shame that Kitty, like most red blooded teenage girls, never allowed her cell phone to pass far from her reach. In spite of her own surging emotions, she retained enough presence of mind to use hers to snap several pictures of him in all his tattered glory. Pictures that by the next afternoon would spread throughout the mansion, finding their way into the phones of every girl in the institute. Even Rogue and Lois ended up with a copy. Lois used it for the wallpaper on her phone's display. She also e-mailed a copy to her little sister in Switzerland, just to make her jealous.

It was something Clark would thankfully never learn, but in the years that followed that picture would be spread far and wide across the internet in Europe.

Author's notes:

I won't lay claim to being a walking dictionary but my understanding is that 'spore', when used in relation to people and animals, includes anything left behind in their wake. While this would include feces, it would also include lost hair follicles, discarded skin cells, oil residue from skin contact and even cigarette butts. I may be wrong, but this is the definition I had in mind when I used the term in Chapter 8: A Shrinking World.

The reason why the Canadian government has not claimed the remains of Magneto's base, asteroid M ( because yes, they would want them ), is the same reason why they never did anything about it when it was still intact and defying gravity; because it is in the middle of no where and they have no clue it exists. If they had someone probably would have dropped a nuke on it to eliminate the threat he posed to 'normal' people. As for Lionel knowing? In this story he is far more than just another amoral billionaire.

I haven't yet decided on the place of SHIELD in this story. It's not something with which I am very familiar and somehow the image portrayed in the old Spiderman cartoons doesn't quite fit what I'm after ( I won't even go into David Hasselhoff's version ). I'm open to suggestions on the topic. Since reading MDR's review, which is the first time SHIELD even crossed my mind, I have considered their having been the ones to previously search the asteroid's remains. Possibly even placing one of the gems of Cyttorak in their possession. The other two are already placed. Any information on the organization would be appreciated.

It is my intent to have Clark develop his powers faster than he did in Smallville. No offense to Jonathan and Martha Kent, but Xavier and company have more experience with such things so it only makes sense to me.

I know Forge didn't play a very big role in the Evolution cartoon, certainly not as big as he is in my story. I see it this way; Xavier has access to all of this technology that is far beyond that enjoyed by the rest of humanity and I don't recall the cartoon ever giving an explanation for the more fantastic elements like the danger room ( which in the beginning just contained mechanical traps and weapons ), so I figure the existence of a mutant who's gift is the ability to create incredible technology is the perfect explanation. Cerebro still predates Forge and is the creation of Xavier and Magneto. Forge doesn't live at the mansion, but with the X-Jet he is only a moment away.

I hope the Danger Room didn't disappoint and I am still open to suggestions for more training ideas, especially ones involving a group.


	11. Chapter 11 Power Play

Chapter 11: Power Play

At four thirty in the morning it was still dark out, the only light to be had on the loading dock at the Bayville Journal being that coming from a pair of floodlights mounted at both ends of the overhanging eave. It was enough to see the dock by, but the powerful bulbs guaranteed that everything beyond their reach was hidden by the sharp contrast between light and dark. This meant that as Clark waited for the next delivery van to back up to be loaded, even he couldn't see it clearly beyond the edge of the circle of light they cast.

He had been working this job for almost a week now and already he, like the others working the dock, was running on automatic.

A hydraulic hand truck would be used to off load the pallets of arriving papers in the single axle truck from New York City, spreading them out across the dock where Clark and the others then separated them according to their destination. After which, the smaller delivery vans would back up to the dock to be loaded. These vans would then do drop offs at stores and to the homes of delivery boys.

Clark's third van of the morning backed up to the docks while he cut the cords holding the bundles on the next pallet of papers. It was one of the larger vehicles, a panel truck with a roll up back door that delivered to the stores down in Pineward and Cranberry Hill to the south. Returning the folded pocket knife to his jacket pocket, Clark looked up to see the driver of the truck moving about the cargo area of the vehicle, organizing the cargo netting that would keep the stacks from moving or tipping during the trip.

Having been drilled several times already on how important it was to keep the papers moving as rapidly as possible, Clark didn't wait for the older man to finish before grasping the first bundle by its twine wrap and tossing it in the back of the truck for the driver to stow away. He was already reaching for the next bundle when he heard a thump, then the loaders to either side of him chuckling.

"Smooth Clark." One said. Followed by the other adding "Not enough coffee this morning Kent?"

Confused, Clark looked up to see what was so funny, just in time to see the back door of the truck roll up into the ceiling of the cargo box. Standing in the back of the lighted interior, one hand raised and still holding the strap connected to the bottom of the door was the driver.

"Aren't you a little impatient this morning? Couldn't even wait for me to open up." Giving Clark a slightly amused, slightly exasperated look, the driver stepped down off the back bumper, bending to retrieve the fallen bundle.

Clark blinked owlishly, staring at the dangling strap of the door in confusion. Why had the driver closed the door again and why hadn't he noticed?

****

After finishing her morning run, Lois returned to the girls floor to shower and change. She was standing before one of several sinks lining one wall of the bathing area, looking up into the mirror behind it, adjusting her hair and makeup, when Jean entered and took the sink on her left. Rogue, who was using the sink to her right, glanced at the red head's reflection in the mirror, her eyes going flat, her face sullen, before putting her hairbrush down in a small display of pique and leaving the room.

Careful to hide it, Lois watched the Goth girl leave with a low level of concern. She liked Rogue, in spite of her stubborn loner mentality, but she resolved to keep an eye on her. Just to make sure she didn't make any gun purchases in the near future. It might even be a good idea to hack the girl's computer files, make sure she hasn't written some sort of manifesto decrying the existence of red heads and cheerleaders. Lois didn't honestly think Rogue would turn violent on Jean, but then no one ever did.

Pushing her concerns for her housemates to the back of her mind, Lois quickly finished her own beauty program. Then with a wink and a smile, she left the ladies room and made her way to the kitchen were she gratefully took a loaded plate of bacon, eggs, toast and side of hash browns with ketchup from the ever cheerful Storm.

'Hmm...' she thought to herself, 'all of the cholesterol a sedentary girl needs for another non-physically demanding day of jockeying a desk.'

She was careful not to let any of her internal sarcasm show though, afraid that if Ms. Monroe knew what she was thinking, the health conscious and overly responsible woman would change their morning menu to tofu patties and Special K. Lois grew up on military bases and one thing the General taught her was that meat wannabes and flakes made from rice paste or ground up corn did not a breakfast make. Her home was a bastion of the beef and potato lifestyle. The General's only concessions to healthy eating being a tall glass of orange juice for breakfast, and another of milk with lunch. The evening meal was usually chased with a cold bottle of beer. He called it his fiber supplement.

Armed with a heavily loaded plate of American tradition, Lois made her way to the dinning room to find a seat among her fellows. They were in the midst of a spirited debate, gathered around a notebook on the table where Kitty seemed to be writing some sort of list.

"What's all the excitement?" She asked Rahne, taking the seat beside her.

The younger girl gave her a wary look, instinctively wrapping her off arm around her plate as if to protect her food. Rahne was still uncomfortable around Lois, the primal beast within recognizing the presence of a rival for pack dominance.

"We're talking about Clark." She told Lois.

"About Clark? Has Smallville done something interesting again? Did he break another of Scott and Jeans records?" A reference to Clark, Kurt and Evan's attempt on the Dark Tower. Of all the students none had previously climbed as high as the team of Scott, Jean and Kitty.

Kitty could easily avoid most of the tower's defenders by going insubstantial, but the tower was also home to wraiths. Ghosts who, while harmless for the most part, were equally insubstantial and more than capable of attacking anyone who ventured upon their plane. The petite teen had yet to discern a way to defeat them, her only defense to revert to being solid, leaving her vulnerable to the tower's other inhabitants. The trio of Xavier's first students had in fact climbed to the very same room that defeated Clark and the others. There Scott's eye beams had quickly slain the ogre, but proved less effective at defeating the swarms of spider goblins, same with Jeans mental powers. They had power aplenty, but had been overwhelmed by the waves of weak vermin, just like Evan. That left only Kitty, stuck between the goblins and the wraiths.

Logan proclaimed the lead to belong to Clark's team on the grounds that if not for the towers fall, the boy from Kansas could easily have advanced to the next room.

Scott was quick to argue the point with anyone who made the mistake of listening.

At the top of the score board was still the team of Logan and Storm, but even they had yet to make it past the Nazgul Witch King and the Ring Wraiths. No one knew what to expect from the Dark Lord himself, not even the novels gave a hint on that one.

Having noticed their conversation, it was Kurt that answered Lois' questions.

"Ve are listing Clark's powers, trying to define vhat he can do." He told her.

"His powers?" Her eyebrows climbed in surprise. "I heard he was a runner, with some sort of mental defense. Are you saying there's more?"

"Lots!" Kitty piped up, tapping the eraser of her pencil on the notebook before her. "He may not be as fast as that jerk Pietro, but he also seems to be really strong with those gorgeous muscles."

The temperature in the room actually rose half a degree from all of the blood rushing to the skin's surface as the girls present were reminded of the picture Kitty had shared.

The boys remained blissfully ignorant.

"He is also one tough dude." Evan added, unintentionally reinforcing the effect with his next words. "I mean, you should have seen his sweats after the tower, they were seriously shredded. He just walked through their arrows and blows like it was nothing. Only the big ugly seemed to hurt him and Clark should have been street pizza after taking those hits."

This was enough to get Lois' attention. It was starting to sound like there was a lot more to Smallville than just his pretty face.

"It's not just weapons." Kitty gestured to the list. "According to Rahne he is also resistant to heat and cold."

"He said they don't bother him." Rahne explained. "He even put his hand in the fire and wasn't hurt."

"He also doesn't get tired. Vhen ve fought the goblins, he kept going and going, like that bunny vith the symbols." Kurt mimed striking symbols together.

"He doesn't sweat." Rahne again. The others looked at her, waiting for her to explain. "Uh, when we were running in the mountains, he uh...he didn't sweat."

"I think he has really good eyes too." Kurt. "Vhen ve vere playing the tower, he found a parapet vay up the side. A balcony ve ported to, the vay ve got in. I could barely see it vell enough to teleport there."

"I couldn't see it at all." Evan added, disgruntled.

Kitty was adding all of this to the list.

"He can hear better too." Rahne. "When I'm a wolf, I have a lot better hearing than when I'm human. During our hike I heard a car coming and I think Clark heard it too, long before everyone else did."

Lois was really starting to wish she had gone on that training trip. A grimace crossed her face as she remembered what she _was_ doing at the time. Yea, a campout with the boys would have been much preferable to dealing with that wallet.

"All right." Kitty piped in, holding up the notebook she read off the list. "We have speed, strength, really hard to hurt, not affected by heat or cold, not even fire, incredible stamina..." A pleasant shiver went down the spines of the older girls. "and really good eyesight and hearing. Is there anything else?"

"Do you count the ability to endure really boring homework?" Evan said with a shudder. "That seems inhuman to me."

"Doing homework isn't a mutant trait Evan." Kitty mocked.

Kurt agreed with Evan, but for once decided to remain silent.

"That's a lot of different powers." Bobby Drake spoke for the first time. Then blew across the top of his glass of orange juice, chilling it.

"It's not that impressive." Roberto scowled. "I'm stronger, practically invulnerable and I can fly. Let's see Clark do that."

Roberto really hates the Dark Tower scenario. Here he was, he would argue, the most powerful student at the institute and he couldn't pass step one on the tower. His powers are dependant on sunlight and the sun never shines in Mordor. It didn't help any that Rahne seemed to be paying way too much attention to the farm boy.

"You know," Lois mused, "there is a pattern here."

"What do you mean Lois, what pattern?" Kitty was curious as to what her inquisitive friend was thinking.

"Well Clark, he isn't really like most mutants. I mean, he doesn't really have any 'mutant' powers. He can't fly, doesn't break the laws of physics or shoot energy beams. His powers are really pretty normal."

The others are now looking at her like her brains were dribbling out her ears.

"No, really. His abilities are all just normal human abilities. It's just like his x-gene decided to turn up the dial a few extra turns. He's not so much a mutant as like a...well, a superman. The nazi uber man, the perfect human, science fictions more highly evolved man of tomorrow." The gleam of interest shinning bright in her eyes, she musingly posed; "It makes me wonder what else might be super about him. I think this warrants further investigation."

The other girls at the table all turned red as their fertile teenage minds drifted towards one possibility.

"Lois!" Kitty cried out in exasperated shock. "You wouldn't!"

Brought back to the here and now, Lois looked around in puzzlement. She hadn't been thinking of that, but it didn't take her long to realize what was on the minds of the other girls.

"You guys really need to dial down the hormones, that's _not_ what I meant." She grinned at their embarrassment. "But I'll let you know what I find out."

"Lois!"

****

Arriving at school, Clark stopped by the office of the Bayville Messenger, the school paper. He had inquired about working on the paper earlier in the week and Stephanie Weiser, a senior and current editor of the paper, had enthusiastically welcomed him, giving him his first assignment and telling him to come in bright and early. It seems the school district had finally found a last minute replacement for Principal Darkhome, one Edward Kelly. The new principal was going to introduce himself this morning and she wanted the days paper to carry an article introducing him, along with a little of his background. Being the new kid in school Clark had been given the task of tracing Principal Kelly's history, while others wrote up articles about Mrs. Darkhome's disappearance and the reaction of the students to the change. From what Clark had seen that reaction seemed to be mostly positive. He had never met the woman but given what Lois told him about her, he had to agree.

Armed with the internet and the phone number of the district offices, Clark managed to write up a dry biography of Mr. Kelly. Where he was from, which college he attended, positions he previously held as first a teacher than as a guidance counselor. All the boring facts one could stomach. It hadn't taken long to write up his part of the article.

With so little fore warning of the principals arrival the students on the paper were racing to get it printed on time. When Clark arrived Friday morning he learned that while the rest of the student body would be listening to Principal Kelly give his welcome speech, he and most of the paper's staff would be working to print the day's edition. Stephanie wasn't happy about not getting the story out in print before the man's arrival and she would be damned if they weren't going to have it out before he was old news.

They were so busy preparing the days publication, they didn't even notice the small tremor that nearly brought the roof down on the man's head.

****

With the big soccer match that night the halls of Bayville High were filled with not only posters, but with cheerleaders in their colorful uniforms and athletes in their letterman's jackets. It didn't matter what sport the jacket was awarded for, a big game of any sort was a good excuse to show it off. For Clark it was a source of unending annoyance.

Hanging his old flannel jacket up in his locker, Clark felt anew a wave of frustration at the knowledge that though he could easily dominate any sport played on Earth, he would never be allowed to play. As his father said, it would be _unfair_ for him to compete with _normal_ people.

Unfair?!

Did they tell a seven footer that he couldn't play basketball because it would be unfair to short people?

No! They gave him praise, college scholarships...and letterman jackets.

It wasn't fair.

Oh, it was more than just the question of fairness. His father had oft repeated the other reasons why Clark couldn't play. With his greater strength Clark hit like a sledgehammer and hitting him was like hitting a brick wall, hard. It didn't help any that his abilities are still growing, along with the rest of him. Worse, like his height they grew in spurts and surges, leaving him sometimes unaware of his own strength. His dad still gave him ribbings about the old Ford pickup they had when Clark was twelve. The tailgate on the old truck tended to stick, often requiring a bit of a tug to get it open. Clark had been totally unprepared for it to come off in his hands, landing him on his butt in the field. Jonathan hadn't been too mad though, it was an old rust bucket and in dire need of replacing. Instead, he just started laughing and gave Clark the short lived nick name of Hercules. Clark loves his father, but at the age of twelve that had been hard to deal with.

Almost as hard as Duncan.

Clark was leaned over slightly, head almost in his locker as he gathered the books for his morning classes, when something struck him from behind. Caught unprepared, his balance already precarious, Clark nearly fell head first into his locker. Pulling back he was greeted by the sound of tittering cheerleaders and a grinning Duncan Mathews, backed by no less then three of his football buddies. All wearing letterman jackets.

"Hey, sorry farm boy. I was telling the girls here..." Here he gestured to the blushing cheerleaders. "...about the upcoming season and I didn't see you. No hard feelings, right."

It wasn't a question, more like a threat. Clark didn't miss the difference.

"No Dunc," Clark hoisted his bag up over his shoulder. "I didn't feel a thing. If you'll excuse me." Pushing his way past, Clark closed his locker and proceeded to class.

Behind him the linemen were chuckling at his expense. The cheerleaders giving him appraising looks, more than one thinking it was too bad he didn't play football.

Duncan wore his habitual smirk, while surreptitiously rotating his left shoulder. He had put that shoulder into the back of many an unsuspecting freshman over the past year and never had it left him feeling sore like this. It felt like he hit a wall.

Brandi, one of the cheerleaders, sidled up to his right side giving him meaningful looks. Grinning back, Duncan put his right arm around her shoulders.

"Hey guys, I'll see you at lunch." He led her towards the parking lot and his waiting chariot. He had better things to do then sit in class like some dork, and what Jean didn't know...well, it wouldn't bother him any.

****

Friday night the playing field behind Bayville High was jumping with noise and excitement. Not every student attending the school had turned out, but when you add in the proud parents and hyper younger siblings, it added up to full stands and deafening decibel levels and the game hadn't even started yet.

Along with the fans there were TV cameras from the local cable channel. Stationed alongside the playing field and high in the stands, they were ready to broadcast the game across the whole of Long Island, from Manhattan to Montauk.

The waiting crowd surged to their feet, shouting their support for the home team as the announcer reported Taryn Fujioka's arrival on the field. Jean's friend raced between the rows of jumping cheerleaders, arms raised to the crowd and the rest of the team soon followed.

Clark joined Scott, Kitty, Kurt and Rogue in the stands. To his surprise he didn't see any of the other students from the institute in attendance. He knew that Professor Xavier was in the tunnels beneath the mansion, working on some ongoing project. Ms Monroe was staying at the mansion, chaperoning the students who chose to spend the evening at home. Several of the other students who were new to the institute this year were spending the night on an impromptu training exercise with Logan. A little reminder of the importance of obeying the rules.

Lois and Jubilee had gone into the Big Apple for a 'culturally enriching experience'. he didn't know what that was supposed to be, but he did overhear Lois asking the Chinese girl if she had an I D during lunch. Anything beyond that he felt better off not knowing. Life was complicated enough without borrowing trouble.

The crowd took their seats as the game began, only to rise once more as Jean scored the first goal of the night. Clark was enjoying the game, relaxing in the moment, when the announcer was cut off in mid sentence only to be replaced by a younger and vaguely familiar voice. One that wasn't talking about the game.

Now silence fell as the people in the stands shifted about in confusion. The game stopped, ball rolling unattended down field as all eyes turned to the announcers booth. A top the small structure, standing in the bright beams of diverted spotlights, stood Lance Alvers.

He was hard to recognize with that ridiculous fish bowl on his head. It looked like part of a nine year olds Halloween costume, which meant it fit right in with the rest of his outfit. The whole thing was reminiscent of the combat gear Spike wore in the Danger Room, if said suit was assembled using what ever happened to be lying about in the trailer park.

"That's better. My name's Lance. I also call myself Avalanche, because I'm a mutant."

From the look of things, the crowd didn't know what to make of his little soliloquy, but that didn't stop Alvers from continuing.

"That's right; me, Toad, Blob and Quicksilver here, we're all mutants, born different. What you might call freaks."

"I can't believe he's doing this." Kitty said.

Scott had to agree. He was standing before the others, holding tightly to the guard rail as if in need of its support. While he himself had questioned the necessity of keeping their existence a secret, he never once imagined announcing themselves to the world like this.

Clark had a very bad feeling about this. He just knew that the night would end in rampant fear and hostility.

Unfortunately, Lance wasn't finished spilling secrets yet.

"There's lots of mutants at Bayville High. Scott Summers over there, he's one and so is Jean Grey, your big soccer star, and most of their pals over at the Xavier Institute. It's kind of a school for weirdo mutant nerds."

Out of everyone there, Clark was the only one to hear Rogue quietly muttering. "Man, we're busted big time." She didn't sound happy about what was happening.

Clark was wishing he had joined Lois and Jubilee on their cultural expedition. Right now, anything would be better than this. It wouldn't have helped. He realized that even if he had stayed in Kansas, the consequences of this night would ripple out to touch anyone who was different. The only reason he had succeeded in remaining hidden for so long was that no one had reason to look.

While Clark and the others were lamenting their lost anonymity, Lance was just getting warmed up. It was time to show the crowd just what he was capable of.

"Now, being mutants means we've got these special powers we can use to make little _improvements_. For instance, we thought this game would be more fun if the goals were further apart."

That said, Lance focuses his will upon the playing field, using his gift to cause a large crack to appear, spreading from one side to the other and catching a couple of girls within its breach. One girl managed to catch the side before falling in, Taryn was only saved from a painful fall by Jean, who caught here with more than her hand.

Clark watched in fascination as the playing field was rent open. This wasn't like any of the powers he had witnessed so far. There was no physical connection, no discernable energy linking the troubled teen to the events on the field. It was like he just willed it and the Earth obeyed.

Clark was brought back to the action by Scott's commanding voice.

"What does that idiot think he's doing. Kitty, Spike, take out the cameras. Rogue, call the Professor, tell him what's going on."

Kitty and Spike raced to the task, while Rogue was already hitting speed dial on her cell phone.

Alvers still wasn't finished, he had one more dig to make at the normal people, a little more fear to spread. This time on a more personal level.

"And we figure the Principal ought to have a little better perspective on his student body."

There is just something about delinquents and the disenfranchised, that makes them want to strike out at authority figures. The Brotherhood being no exception.

Pietro, Quicksilver, raced out onto the field and began to circle Principal Kelly at a such a speed that most watching saw little more than a blur. The incredible rate of his passage, pushing the air before him, created a low pressure zone behind him. Sucking in the surrounding air and accelerating it into a vortex that plucked Kelly from his feet, carrying him several feet into the air. It also made it extremely hard for him to breath.

Jean moved to help and seeing this Scott wanted nothing more than to be by her side, but someone had to stop Lance before things got out of hand. Fortunately, Scott was used to not working alone.

"Clark, help Jean save Principal Kelly. I'll take care of Alvers."

Tearing his gaze from the gash in the Earth, Clark saw Jean moving towards the blur that was Quicksilver. Clark could barely make out the malicious smirk on Pietro's face. More easy to see was the terror on Principal Kelly's as he struggled to breath. Casting about for some way to catch the silver garbed speed demon, Clark's eyes fell upon the judges table, his mind quickly figuring the possibilities.

Hopping the rail, Clark landed behind the standing officials, his arrival spooking them and sending them scrambling away. He winced at the fear in their eyes. They were afraid of mutants now, along with anyone else who was different enough to threaten them.

Pushing his own fears for tomorrow aside. Clark snatched up the long table by one end, dumping its contents on the ground before flicking it like an oversized Frisbee towards Quicksilver. The table spun across the field and right through the space beneath Principal Kelly's feet. Pietro saw it coming and easily dodged the clumsy missile, but doing so disrupted his path, causing the vortex he was maintaining to collapse spilling Kelly onto the ground where he desperately gasped for breath.

Pietro made the mistake of stopping to glare at Clark, unwittingly making himself an easy target for Jean. Using her telekinesis, Jean plucked him from his feet rendering his speed useless, than with a mighty push, she sent him flying to collide with the goal post with a painful thud. Quicksilver, it seemed, was down for the count.

When Clark jumped over the rail, Scott was retrieving his visor from his school bag exchanging it with his dark glasses. He had no more than opened his eyes, when Lance and Fred Dukes decided to go on with the show.

"Another thing," Lance's voice carried over the frightened shrieks of the crowd. "we think that mascot totally reeks."

Alerted by Lance's boast, Scott turned toward the large golden statue just in time to witness Fred ripping it from its mountings, holding it above the people still on the bleachers in a threatening manner. Scott didn't know what the massive youth intended to do with it, but he decided not to wait and find out. Cracking open his ruby quartz visor, Scott struck the Bayville Hawk from Fred's startled hands, sending the flaming statue flying over the bleachers and onto the roof of the gym below where it started a merry little blaze.

Surprised by the blast, Fred stumbled over the edge and fell from sight behind the bleachers.

The Blob dealt with, Scott turned his attention back towards the original threat, Lance Alvers.

"All right Lance!" He called out in challenge. "You want it all out in the open, let's put it out there!"

Lance grinned tightly in response. "I've been waiting for this!" He yelled back, then raced for the ladder and down to the field were Scott was waiting. It was time to show the do-gooder who really held the power here.

Meanwhile, Kurt and Toad were wrestling over a dropped purse, before Kurt sent his opponent flying with a powerful kick.

Fred had fallen, but unlike Quicksilver he didn't stay down. Finding himself beneath the stands, surrounded by their supports, he set about attacking their structure. Working to bring the whole thing crashing down on his head, screaming fans and all.

The sound of straining metal and breaking wood drew Clark's attention to the giant. Seeing the stands already starting to cave above the other boy, Clark darted over to stop him.

Fred was drawing his arm back for another mighty swing, when what felt like a steel band wrapped painfully tight around his wrist, arresting his movement. Looking down, he found Lois' pretty boy friend holding onto his appendage, stopping it dead with incredible strength. Not wasting time to consider the consequences, Fred merely swung at the new target with his other arm. Only to have Clark catch it too.

Now Clark had both of Fred's wrists, one in each hand, and he bent his great strength to holding the other boy. Unfortunately, while it was quickly clear that Clark was by far the stronger of the two, Fred's superior mass more than made up for the difference and Clark soon found himself lifted from his feet. With a grin, Fred prepared to use his new battering ram against the remaining supports.

The grin quickly disappeared with the touch of Rogue's hand, dropping the not so gentle giant on the ground.

Trusting the others to save Kelly, Scott moved to deal with Lance.

Avalanche was still amping up his power, causing the first tremors to shake the ground, when a quick blast from Scott sent him spiraling down into unconsciousness.

It was at that moment, with the Brotherhood spread unconscious on the ground, the heavens opened up pouring rain down upon the now quiet battlefield.

"Good work Storm." Professor Xavier said as the weather witch settled to the ground beside his power chair. The students gathered nervously around the adults, apprehension filling them as they watched the surrounding crowd.

Storm turned her concerned gaze from the Professor's dripping face, to the frightened ones watching from the edges of the field.

"Yes, but no downpour can make people forget what they've seen here. The secret is out."

"Perhaps not." Xavier replied. "If I can alter their memory of what's happened."

"No! There are too many. Even your mind could never withstand such a strain."

"I really have no choice." Xavier responded. Tuning her out, he focused his mind on those of the frightened and in some cases, angry people lining the edges of the field. He hated to rush when playing with people's minds. Altering memories it was all too easy to make mistakes, leaving ghosts of what was that clashed with what he wanted them to remember. It was sloppy and prone to fail at the worst possible time.

What's more, Storm's prediction proved all too true. Xavier was deep in Principal Kelly's mind, the last one, when the strain overcame him. Soon followed by darkness.

****

When consciousness returned Xavier found himself lying upon a hospital bed deep in the bowels of the institute.

"Easy Charles, take it slow." Logan's hand on his shoulder kept him pinned to the mattress. "You threw your brain into overload."

"But it worked." Orroro Monroe reassured him. "Eyewitnesses believe that all of the damage was caused by a small earthquake. The experts are already theorizing that an escaping gas pocket under the field caused the quake and was ignited by the fireworks on the new mascot."

"What about the broadcast?" Xavier asked. "How much got out?"

"Nothing." Logan answered. "Seems there was some kind of strange _magnetic_ interference that knocked the station off the air seconds before."

"Magneto." Charles wasn't sure if he was relieved or not to learn that his old friend may yet live."Magneto?" Logan echoed. "I wouldn't doubt it. Guess you were right to keep searching Chuck."

Scott, the only student present in the room, stepped into the Professor's line of sight.

"Anyway, I guess we're back under wraps where we should be." A light grimace graced his face as he continued with his apology. "I'm real sorry Professor. Like you said, the world really isn't ready to learn about us."

"I'm afraid not Scott." Thoughts of his old friend were pushed to the back of Xavier's mind as more immediate concerns came to the fore. "Hopefully Lance and the others will come to realize that as well. Now, my only concern is Principal Kelly. I was inside his mind when I blacked out. I'm not sure I finished the job."

Author's notes:

The inclusion of Clark necessitated several changes in the soccer field battle, but I also made several changes in order to 'fix' what I saw as severe deficiencies in the original score. For one thing, if Xavier really had been there from the beginning, why didn't he neutralize Lance and the others as soon as it became clear what they intended to do? He could easily have turned the entire event into a minor prank in the eyes of the crowd, negating the threat it posed entirely. Given the context of the situation, I couldn't find any reason for him to hold back if he had been present from the beginning. So instead, I started with him back at the mansion, using distance to explain the delay in his participation. I also skipped the whole 'let's change into our colorful costumes before engaging' that Scott and the others did in the original. I couldn't imagine why they would even be carrying their costumes, much less delay further to put them on after Lance has already exposed them. I also altered the explanation Xavier left for what happened. Exploding fireworks may sound like a nice idea, for a building burning down, but it does nothing to explain a giant crack in the ground.

David-El, thanks for the info on Bayville. I'm still placing Metropolis in Delaware, but Long Island fits the bill for Bayville perfectly. I have to suspect you're right and it was where the original writers intended to place Xavier's institute.

MDR; you're right, it is spelled 'spoor'. Sorry.


	12. Chapter 12 Looking Beneath

Chapter 12: Looking Beneath

When Lois and Jubilee returned it was late and the mansion was quiet. Lois knew several of the younger students had been dragged off by Logan for extra training so it wasn't entirely unexpected. She was a little surprised to find that all of the others had apparently already turned in for the night. It was Friday after all, she expected Kurt and Evan at least to still be up.

Ms Monroe was and she was waiting up for them, forcing the delinquent duo to exercise care as they entered, keeping their distance and not breathing in her direction. Cinnamon chewing gum not withstanding, neither girl wanted to risk a stern lecture from Storm. Much less grounding or their own training trip with Logan.

"Welcome home girls." She greeted them. "How was your trip to the city?"

Careful to keep their teacher's attention on herself and off of the slightly swaying Jubilee, Lois did her best to look calm and cheerful as she answered.

"Oh you know, still big. Lots of people, lots of noise, lots of excitement."

Lois didn't have to fake the yawn that punctuated the end of her statement.

"If you don't mind Ms. Monroe, we're gonna hit the sack. It's been a long day."

To her surprise Storm didn't push the interrogation any further.

"Yes, that would probably be best. It has been a trying day for all of us. Goodnight ladies."

And that was that.

Lois couldn't believe their good fortune as the older woman turned and walked away, as if she had already forgotten they were even there.

"Boy, that was lucky." Jubilee whispered a little too loudly, before losing herself in a fit of giggling. The slight girl didn't enjoy Lois' constitution in regards to alcohol and she was somewhat unsteady on her feet. Fortunately she had waited until after Storm left the room.

"Yeah, lucky…" Lois trailed off absently, watching down the hall in the direction of their departed teacher. She was wondering what had been so 'trying' about today. After all, they had only missed a soccer game.

(Page Break)

Late Saturday morning Lois entered the dinning room to find Kitty and Kurt studying. "Hey Kitty, Kurt." She called out in greeting, announcing her presence to the distracted pair.

"Oh, hi Lois." The other girl answered back, looking over her shoulder to were Lois was entering the room. Kitty was seated alongside the large table, her school books spread across it in a sprawl that took up half of its surface. Seated opposite her was Kurt, his own books taking up a much smaller area. Evan's book bag was hanging over the back of another chair but he himself was absent.

Stepping closer to look over Kitty's shoulder, Lois surveyed the educational clutter.

"You guys are doing homework on Saturday morning. What, did I miss the memo announcing the coming of the Apocalypse?"

Kitty shook her head no. "We're trying to avoid a disaster that's going to hit a little closer to home."

"Yea, ve vant to be gone before Logan catches us." Kurt added by way of explanation. "Ve don't vant to be around if he decides ve need extra training."

Lois raised a questioning eyebrow at his words. They both seemed rather subdued to her, nothing like their usual exuberant, youthful selves. "Why, you guys in trouble?"

"Yea, trouble vith a capital T." Kurt answered without looking up. The fur ball bore all of the hallmarks of teenage depression.

Kitty threw him a commiserating look before offering an explanation, her voice tinged with exasperated anger. "That idiot Lance and his stooges outed us before the entire school, and if that wasn't bad enough the jerks had to show off, even attacking the new principal."

The blood rushed from Lois' head, leaving her face pale as she practically fell into the chair next to Kitty. Suddenly her legs felt too weak to bare her weight.

"You mean everyone…they…everyone knows we're mutants?"

This was bad.

Lois would never forget how the General reacted to the news that she was a mutant, she could easily imagine the worst when it came to the kids at school.

"I don't vant to go back into hiding." Kurt mumbled.

Kitty reached across the table, giving his furry three fingered hand an admonishing pat.

"It's not that bad." She said, her words directed more towards Kurt than Lois. "The Professor made everyone forget. They think it was caused by escaping gas or some such, no one remembers anything about mutants. Their worried about earthquakes, the Principal has already announced that school will be closed Monday so they can decide if it's safe to come back. Everything is going to be okay."

"Easy for you to say." Kurt replied, shaking his head. "You don't know vhat it is like to be seen as a monster. You don't know how lucky you are to look normal."

Lois let out a relieved sigh. Xavier had made everything all right again, just like with the General. She decided that it was up to her, the older and more experienced woman, to defuse the situation before things grew too depressed.

"Hey, relax Kurt. Don't let the chrome dome and wheels fool you, the Prof knows what he is doing."

(Page Break)

"I don't know what to do." Xavier said, his voice troubled. "I don't have to be psychic to sense how upset the children are over the events at yesterday's game. They weren't ready to see their friends pull away in fear. I don't know if they will ever be ready, or if the world will ever be ready to learn of our existence."

He was seated behind the desk in his office, turned sideways so he could stare out the window overlooking the estate. He was troubled by the absence of children playing in the yard. He knew they were hiding inside the mansion instead. Word had spread quickly and even the students who hadn't been at the game were uneasy. The halls of his home weighed heavy with their disquiet.

Seated in front of the desk Storm calmly sipped her tea. Logan was seated on the corner of the desk, an unlit match held between his teeth. It was a nervous habit of his, one he only engaged in when he wasn't free to use that match to light up a cigar.

"Well, they better get ready." Logan said, his voice carrying its characteristic gruffness. "Sooner or later they're gonna have to face it Chuck. You can't shelter them forever."

"Logan is right Charles. If the world is ever going to accept us we will have to show a calm strength to relieve its fears. As unpleasant as it is, this is something the children will have to face eventually. Perhaps there is a silver lining to this cloud, a reminder that we have grown too complacent in our anonymity."

"Whatever." Logan muttered, rising from his place against the desk. "They definitely need to be stronger. I seriously doubt Magneto is going to let us pick when and how the world finds out about us. You know it is going to get ugly and the kids had better be ready to dodge the flack when it all hit's the fan."

"Logan, there is no reason this has to devolve into violence." Storm placed her cup on the table beside her, subconsciously preparing for the very violence she was denouncing.

Professor Xavier moved quickly to interrupt the argument that was about to arise between Logan and Orroro. He was all too familiar with their differences of opinion when predicting how the world would react to the presence of mutants hiding among the populace.

"No, Magneto is wrong in his belief that a war between mutants and normal people is inevitable. Still, it is only confidence in their ability to deal with whatever may come that will give our students the strength to remain calm while others cry out in fear and intolerance."

Turning from the window to face his friends and associates, Xavier's words belied his own earlier claim of uncertainty. "Still, I fear we will need to work harder to prepare them to face the troubled times ahead, and that includes the possibility of a fight against those like Magneto, or the hate that will inevitably come from the fear people have of those who are different. Storm, call Forge and arrange to have him create new scenarios for the Danger Room. Ones that involve rioting mobs or the possibility of facing an attack from the army and the police. Focus on how to defuse those threats without making things worse. The last thing we want to do is feed the resultant fear and hysteria while trying to defend ourselves."

(Page Break)

The morning following the soccer game and Lance's aborted announcement was a quiet one at the institute. The near scare of being exposed to the world had the students uneasy and subdued.

Especially the few who had been in attendance.

The memory of the fear and rejection on the faces of their classmates ached like a fresh wound, one that if left to fester would only grow worse. Xavier knew this, he just didn't know how to reassure his young charges that the future held not just pain and fear, but also hope.

Bad as it was for the others, the sense of isolation weighed even more heavily upon Clark. Having their friends and classmates turn away may have been an eye opener for Scott and a slap in the face for Jean, but at least they knew they had each other. Clark didn't know where he would stand but he feared that with the exception of his parents and maybe Xavier, it would be alone.

More than ever he was feeling like the unwanted guest at the party.

Logan, on the other hand, didn't let it bother him. In the fifteen years he could remember he had always been alone and he carried the inescapable feeling that he always had been. Chuck, Orroro and the kids were still new to him. He was still trying to get used to the idea of having a surrogate family.

Especially when they were kids with the annoying habit of leaving their stuff lying around, like the school books currently scattered across the dinning room table. It didn't take a genius to realize they belonged to Kitty, of all the girls living in the mansion she was the only one with such a fondness for stickers.

He was pushing her unattended books aside, making room for him to sit down with his afternoon snack, when a piece of paper caught his eye. It was haphazardly sticking out of her binder, just a little bit but it was enough for him to make out Clark's name surrounded by little hearts and stars.

For some unfathomable reason girls just seemed to like them tall. Logan smirked, he had yet to meet a man so big he couldn't cut them down to size.

Chuck told him to pay extra attention to the Kent boy so telling himself it was his obligation to know what the other kids thought of Clark, he pulled the paper out to read. Holding it up in one hand, he perused its contents while sipping a cold beer with the other. It took some effort to make out the words hidden among the doodles.

'Hmm...Strength, speed, stamina...what's with the exclamation points?'

An eyebrow went up, his interest piqued. It looked like Kitty was trying to catalogue all of Clark's powers. Her list so far was already much longer than Logan suspected.

The strength and speed he already knew about, along with the physical resistance to harm. The stamina was easily guessed and probably went along with the strength. Good hearing would explain how he knew Chuck was talking about him in the van. Sight...that was new, as was the resistance to hot and cold. As for the lack of sweat, Logan had already witnessed that and he still didn't know what to make of it. He wondered if it was related to the immunity to heat. Maybe Clark never felt hot enough to need to cool off?

Charles wasn't trying to hide the fact that he knew more about the boy then he was sharing, something that made him different from the others. Whatever it might be, it was the reason why he asked Logan to give him his personal attention.

Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe it was time to perform another evaluation of the boy's abilities, now that he had a better idea of what to test for. It might even be time to call in a little help.

(Page Break)

The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the mountains eighty miles west of Ely Nevada, its bright rays painting the desert peaks in bright shades of red and brown as Lionel's helicopter winged its way over the empty expanse below.

A shiny new Bell Ranger, the only blemish on its pristine white coat being the double 'L' stripes of the Luthor Corp insignia and its identification numbers on the tail.

The golden globe of the sun was full in the sky by the time the racing aircraft began to shed speed and altitude having at last reached its destination. It was in the middle of nowhere, a plain white sign with black block letters declaring the place to be 'Remote Research Facility #133', the double 'L' insignia almost hidden in the bottom right corner.

The helicopter settled on the bare desert ground near the only visible structure, a large concrete vehicle shed. The rest of the facility was safely hidden underground.

Officially the facility was used for experimenting with genetically engineered plants, growing a better tomato. The location was to prevent contamination and ensure quarantine, didn't want to release the floral equivalent of the killer bee after all. Unofficially, it allowed Lexcorp's scientists to do whatever they wanted with little fear of government oversight.

Before the chopper had even finished settling on the hard packed dirt, two men left the square building and raced to open the door of the passenger compartment. The first was wearing a long, white lab coat, the second a flak jacket with matching assault rifle. Once the blades had slowed enough they weren't kicking up a tornado of grit and sand, the man in the lab coat opened the helicopter door to reveal Lionel seated inside, a satellite phone attached to his right ear. On the seat next to him sat a leggy brunette, the very same siren that lured poor Liwei into a trap. This time she was more conservatively dressed in a cream colored skirt suit. In spite of that, the short skirt still managed to artfully display her long, toned legs to devastating affect. Causing the blood pressure, and other things, to rise when the eyes of the men outside the helicopter saw her. She gave them a slightly predatory smile, enjoying their attention.

"Listen, I don't care about their domestic problems." Lionel was saying into the phone, ignoring the men waiting by the open door. "You just make sure that General Salazar understands the importance of keeping up his end of the deal. I will not have this project derailed by some petty dictator with delusions of grandeur. If necessary we will work with his successor, do I make myself clear?"

Lionel wasn't worried about saying something he shouldn't over the open air ways, his phone was so heavily scrambled it would have taken the best minds at the NSA to decipher his words and they had better things to do then listen in on random corporate CEOs. As long as he kept his head down he had more than enough influence in Washington to prevent all but the most serious investigations.

Returning the phone to its cradle without saying goodbye, he turned his attention to the man in the lab coat.

"Ah, Dr. Hansen, it's so good to see you again. I assume everything is proceeding according to schedule?"

Arthur struggled to remain calm as his employer's words snatched his attention from the legs of Luthor's beautiful companion. His heart nearly stopped when Lionel's right hand came to rest upon one of those lovely knees in a clear display of possession.

"Yes Mr. Luthor, at least they are for now but I fear that won't continue for long if we don't obtain larger facilities. We are filled to capacity and I understand that Mr. Corbin is already on his way with another subject."

Exiting the helicopter Lionel placed a reassuring hand on the doctor's shoulder, ignoring the security guard as just another piece of the landscape.

"Rest assured doctor, larger facilities are being prepared even now and we will soon be moving you and your staff out of the country and away from any pesky legal entanglements. Now if you don't mind, I would like to get inside out of this sun. A cool drink would also be welcome."

"Of course sir." Arthur responded quickly. "We have already prepared the conference room for your arrival. If you would sir, Miss Heather." He held his arm out to Lionel's companion in a clumsy attempt at chivalry.

"Why, thank you doctor." The tall brunette replied, accepting his offered arm. The naked flesh of her hand came to rest on his, causing an involuntary rush of pleasure to wash through Arthur's nervous system.

Lionel watched his lovely companion play with the doctor, a patronizing smirk upon his lips. "Yes doctor, that would be most appreciated."

With Miss Heather at his side and a bead of sweat running down his spine, Arthur Hansen led the way to the garage. The security guard and Lionel's pilots bringing up the rear.

Cameras along the roof line allowed those within to track their progress and so as they approached the man sized personnel door in the face of the concrete structure, it was opened from within by another security guard who held it as they passed.

(Page Break)

"Tell me again why we're dong this?" He was trying to hide how nervous he was but right now Alex Rickman was seriously reconsidering his choice of future occupation, or at least his current partner in journalism.

Chloe on the other hand, was in her element. Sure she was nervous, if they were caught a little stunt like this could easily get them kicked off of the school paper. Still, if she had to write one more meaningless fluff piece about teenage lifestyles and fashions, she would welcome expulsion as a god send. Unlike Alex she wasn't worried about disappointing her parents. Given her past record at the Torch her father would just consider it par for the course for his little girl.

"Will you relax." She admonished. "I promise that at no point will life or limb be in any danger. You need to learn to live in the moment. Honestly, how do you ever expect to break the big stories if you never take any chances?"

The look he gave her was trying for righteous conviction, but the effect was ruined by the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"I intend to do it without breaking the law. A good reporter gets the story through solid investigating, not breaking and entering."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Your pulling a fire alarm, not invading the Oval Office."

What was it with the guys in her life and being so up tight about the rules?

"Look, classes start in…" A quick glance at her watch. "ten minutes. Just go down by the gym and when the tardy bell rings pull the alarm. Then head out into the parking lot with the rest of the school. It's that simple."

"The tardy bell?" He hissed out, voice filled with unease. "If I'm late to class then they'll know I was the one who pulled the alarm."

Chloe rolled her eyes, again. "If you pull the alarm then everyone is going to be late. Relax, they'll never even realize you weren't sitting at your desk like a good little over achiever." She gave him a gentle, but forceful, shove. "Now go, do this and we'll be one step closer to finally having a story worth printing."

Glancing at her nervously over his shoulder, steps heavy with trepidation, Alex walked down the hall and out of sight.

Shaking her head with a heavy sigh, Chloe made her way to the ladies room near the administrative offices. Entering the lavatory she made her way to the last stall in the line where she climbed atop the commode, careful to ensure that no part of her was visible from the outside. She left the stall door slightly ajar, further enhancing the impression that it was unoccupied.

The ten minutes that followed seemed to go on forever as she waited for her erstwhile partner in crime to pull the fire alarm. The tardy bell had rung and she was just starting to curse the weaker male gender, when the shrill cry of the fire alarm shattered the silence of the nearly vacant halls.

Reminding herself not to hold her breath, she quietly waited until she heard the sound of someone entering the restroom. Three short steps into the room, followed by the sound of hard heeled shoes leaving in a hurry. She counted to ten before climbing down from her perch and slinking to the door where she then counted to thirty before cracking it open to peek outside.

The halls were empty, the distant echo of rushing feet sweeping down the hall as the student body slowly lumbered its way outside.

Having assured that everyone was out of the building, Chloe made her way past the school secretary's desk to the office of the resource officer.

Deputy Guzman was a somewhat slovenly middle aged man who always seemed to have some remnant of his last meal decorating the front of his uniform, but at least he didn't try to flirt with the teenage girls. Quietly entering his office, as predicted she found his computer still active. He had left without logging off, leaving it vulnerable to a little espionage.

She knew that the deputy would be spending several minutes joining in with the rest of the staff, herding the students outside and into the field north of the building. Then, once that was completed, he would spend several more minutes checking out the pulled alarm by the gym, verifying whether or not there actually was a fire. All of this meant that she should have plenty of time to access Robert Wardell's file. Using the deputy's computer also meant she would have access to Mr. Wardell's police and juvenile court records, something normally beyond the reach of the fourth estate.

With a grin, she seated herself in the deputy's chair and commenced to typing.

Five minutes later Chloe was sneaking back to the ladies room, a printout containing everything no one ever wanted to know about Robert rolled up in her hand.

(Page Break)

For the students of Bayville High Tuesday morning brought a return to class and their regularly scheduled program. For the kids at the Xavier Institute it was the first time they would face their peers since the debacle of Friday's game and though no one would admit it out loud, not a one of them was looking forward to it.

Having worked the weekend Clark had Tuesday morning off at the paper, so he rode to school with Lois and Jubilee. Pulling into the school parking lot, they found the others gathered around Scott's car. Everyone but Jean that is which wasn't too surprising, she had ridden to school with Duncan.

After parking the mopeds, Clark, Lois and Jubilee gravitated towards the others. They tried to act nonchalant but even Lois couldn't help watching the normal teens with a nervous eye.

"Hey guys!" Kitty greeted them like she hadn't seen them just ten minutes before. "Is it just me or does anybody else feel like we're totally on display?"

"Yea, I know vhat you mean." Kurt couldn't help the involuntary shudder that passed down through his slender frame as he unconsciously wrapped his arms about himself, covering up.

Scott was doing his best to exude confidence, trying to reassure the others. "Relax guys. The Professor took care of everything. We're the only ones who even remember what happened. Everyone else thinks it was caused by exploding gas."

At his words, everyone turned to look at the gutted and charred remains of the school gym. Surrounded by yellow hazard tape there was heavy machinery waiting to finish tearing it down after school. The playing field was also roped off, an equipment trailer from the New York Institute of Technology parked some thirty yards from Lance's rent in the ground.

Clark had read the article on the incident in the paper, between bundle throws, and knew that the crew from the university was trying to use sounding equipment and computer graphics to generate a three dimensional image of the underground strata, attempting to locate any more gas pockets.

Rogue hated to undermine Scott, but someone had to give voice to what they were all thinking. "You guys know that it is only a matter of time before those idiots do it again. Even if they don't, the world's going to find out about us eventually. The Professor can't cover for all of us forever. _We'll probably be lucky if we make it through another week_."

The last was said under her breath, her own fears leaking out.

"Rouge's right." Lois threw into the middle of the group. She wanted things to continue the way they were as much as anyone, but one of the things the General had taught her was that any defense had weaknesses and eventually someone or something would succeed in exploiting one of Xavier's, exposing them to the cold, cruel world. For now though the others needed a distraction, something productive they could be spending their energies on instead of worrying. "So what are we going to do about it? How do we stop the loser hood from pulling that stunt again?"

They all exchanged glances, each wondering the same thing; how do you convince an idiot to act in their own best interest?

Neither Lance nor Pietro were lacking in intelligence, but all too often they let their egos do their thinking for them. As for Toad and Fred…yeah, they were pretty much lacking in the brains department.

Spinning his skateboard nose down on his open palm, Evan decided to demonstrate that Lance and his quick footed friend weren't the only ones suffering from that particular handicap.

"I say we just go over to that boarding house and _educate_ them. Lance wants to get it all 'out in the open', well I say we remind him of what happens whenever the looser hood tangles with us. He'll be too embarrassed to try and go public again. Who's with me?"

Like any good leader Scott did his best to coral his overzealous team mate with a minimal amount of friction.

"As much as I share the sentiment Evan, I don't think Professor X would approve."

It was Kitty who threw a load of vitriol at her bleach blonde cohort. "Really Evan, this isn't some _hood_ in the Bronx, we don't go around pounding people for walking on the wrong side of the street. Besides their not really that bad…okay, Quicksilver _is_ that bad, but Lance, Toad and Fred just don't like being pushed around and with Mystique gone, their just going a little overboard trying to prove their nobody's chumps. I mean really, with Mystique gone they might even join us…if given the chance."

The rolling of the eyes made it clear what Kurt and Evan thought of the odds of that happening.

Rogue muttered under her breath; "Who would want them?"

Lois was more forthcoming with her opinion.

"That's nice Kitty, but we've already filled our allotment of charity cases taking in Smallville here. We really can't afford to add any more."

Voice heavy with sarcasm, Clark responded back with a; "And for that I'll be forever grateful Lois, but…does this mean you don't want to hold my hand anymore?"

A relaxing chuckle passed through the group at the diametric duos banter. Scott marveled at the ease with which Lois pulled Clark out of his well mannered shell.

Chewing on her lower lip, Kitty pulled together her resolve. "I'll try talking to Lance…maybe I can drive some sense through that thick skull of his."

A grin broke out on Scott's face. "That's a great idea Kitty. Alvers seems to like you, maybe he'll listen to you without feeling threatened."

"Yeah Kitty," Kurt interrupted. "maybe if you bat your eyes, he vill play da hero. Jus like Don Quixote."

(Page Break)

Having placed the books for his first three classes in his backpack, Clark closed his locker and proceeded down the hall towards first hour. While most of the hallways were filled with scrambling students jostling each other as they raced to class or shared one last word with friends, Clark's first class was located on the top floor at the far end of the building where the windows looked out over the playing field and there were far fewer students occupying the hall.

Even so, there were some and he found himself following Duncan's friend Brandi to class. True her personality left much to be desired, not to mention her morals, but the cheerleader was still quite pleasant to look upon. Especially when the skirt she was wearing was even shorter than the one that went with the pom-poms. It was also much, much tighter and so was the cotton halter top she was wearing. So tight they left little to the imagination.

So little, in fact, that as he followed her Clark could have sworn he was seeing right through them. He felt a rush of heat swell up from his torso to the spot behind his eyes as he watched her seemingly naked hips sashay down the hall. Tunnel vision set in as his full attention focused on her flawless skin and…was that a tattoo of Tweety-Bird high on her left cheek?

'BAM!'

Clark came to a hard stop, his attention brought back from pleasant imaginings of his pretty classmate to the hard but now slightly dented surface of his classroom's metal door.

The sharp retort of impact drew giggles from a pair of girls entering the classroom down the hall and behind him. A pair of very naked girls.

"See something you like?" One of them asked teasingly as he froze, ogling them.

Her semi sarcastic tone broke him out of his trance and blushing bright red, he turned from the naked pair and back towards his class, whom he could see looking in his direction from their desks.

Something struck him as wrong and tentatively reaching out he could feel the cold surface of the metal door. Feel it, but not see it. He could see Brandi though standing not four feet beyond the invisible portal and now fully clothed…err, maybe not. Once again the protective covering of miniskirt and halter top faded from sight, exposing her natural beauty to appreciative eyes.

"Mr. Kent, is everything all right?" A deep voice asked from behind him, a heavy but comforting hand coming to rest on his left shoulder.

Turning back in the direction of the tittering girls and the questioning voice, Clark came face to face with a nightmare that drove the rising heat of teenage lust from his body quicker than a dip in Crater Lake in February.

"Mr. Kent?" The voice repeated, but Clark was too busy watching the ligaments and muscles stretched taut over bone as the exposed jaw moved up and down, teeth parting in a surreal grimace. It was as if the man had been skinned alive.

"Clark, are you okay?"

Closing his eyes Clark focused on the man's voice, trying to push past the confusion. With the distraction of glistening muscle and bone gone, he was finally able to recognize the man by his voice. It was Dr. McCoy, chemistry teacher and track coach. It was his room the girls had been standing before. Clark should know, he had the same class for third period.

After taking several deep, calming breaths in an effort to center himself, Clark opened his eyes and was relieved to find the familiar square jawed and bespectacled face before him, complete with skin.

With a relieved sigh, he was just saying "No, I'm okay.", when his eyes moved past the larger man's shoulder to the wonderfully naked girl watching from the doorway behind him.

"Urk…" He cut off, slamming his eyes shut again as the heat and blood rushed to his face.

Dr. McCoy's lips turned down in a disturbed frown as he looked upon the blushing boy. He didn't know what was wrong but for just a moment there, before Clark closed his eyes, Hank could have sworn the boy's irises were turning a glowing red. He knew Clark was one of Charles Xavier's students and all that implied.

'Could Clark be having trouble controlling his mutant abilities?' He asked himself as a wave of sympathy welled up within him.

"Clark…Mr. Kent, perhaps it would be best if we called someone to take you home?"

"Yeah…" Clark licked his lips nervously, careful not to open his eyes again. "I think…maybe…yeah. That might be a good idea."

Author's notes:

There, Clark's x-rated vision has finally come out like a bull in a china shop and it won't be going away again. I needed to get that out before I could move on to the next part of the story, at least if Clark's role was going to make sense.

Sorry about leaving it hanging there at the end. I do have more written up but this just seemed like a good stopping point, so I did.

I've recently discovered another Smallville/Evolution crossover by Ben (count down from ten backwards) and I've been enjoying reading someone else's ideas. I was a little dismayed to realize his story had been posted two full months before I noticed it. I used to check for any others but had given up on it. I still think this crossover is an interesting idea and wouldn't mind if the little 3 in parenthesis were to turn into a 12 or some other larger number.

Astute readers may have noticed the name 'Corbin' in this chapter. I have incorporated Johnny Corbin/Metallo into my story and will be introducing him in the next chapter ( that part is already written ).

Some of you have sent me messages, which I appreciate, and I intend to reply but e-mail is not really something I'm too familiar with so I keep putting it off. I just wanted to apologize for being slow and assure you that I do read them, more than once.


	13. Chapter 13 2020

Chapter 13: 20/20

Logan arrived at Bayville high to pick up Clark and found the boy waiting in the secretary's office. Kent had his eyes squeezed tightly shut and though Logan didn't think that was a grimace of pain on the boy's face, it was certainly a grimace of some sort.

Being that he was often the one to pick up the kids when they called from school, Logan was familiar to the school secretary and she greeted him by name.

"Good morning Mr. Logan." She was always so formal, it was like talking to your best friend's grandmother.

"Mornin Ma'am." He returned with a nod.

She presented him with a student check-out form and as he signed it he asked; "So, what's wrong with Kent here?"

Taking back the sheet and double checking to see that everything was in order, she answered without looking up.

"I'm afraid I don't know. Dr. McCoy brought young mister Kent into the office and asked me to call the institute for someone to come get him. It looks like everything is in order, he's all yours. If you'll excuse me."

Taking the completed form she left the room for the next office. The wall in between was made of glass and Logan could see as she walked between several rows of filing cabinets within.

As the secretary proceeded to file Clark's form, Logan turned to the boy in question.

"All right Kent, what's the problem?"

Clark wasn't sure how to answer. I mean, how do you tell someone that the walls keep disappearing, girls keep losing their clothes and that some people apparently forgot to wear their skin this morning?

Logan could tell Clark was struggling for an answer in typical teenage fashion. He also noted that Clark had yet to open his eyes.

"Something wrong with your eyes kid?" He asked as he reached out to tip the boy's head back for a better look.

Clark hadn't intended to, but at the feel of Logan's hand on his face he instinctively opened his eyes. What he found in front of him was a complete, metal skeleton. What his mind actually saw were three wicked sharp blades heading straight for his face.

Jerking back hard in his seat he grabbed the skeletal arm out of reflex, squeezing hard enough to break normal bone.

It was hard enough that Logan winced in pain.

"Hey! Ease off kid. There's no need to rip my arm off."

Pulling back from the initial shock of having Halloween come to life before him, Clark lightened the pressure of his grip. Looking closer at the arm before him he could see the ulna and radius bones of the forearm, with what appeared to be three eight inch long knife blades floating between them. Until now Clark hadn't known about Logan's little accessories and this was a most unpleasant way to find out.

Looking past the blades, he saw how his gripping hand seemed to be floating in space several millimeters from the metal sheathed bones. It looked like he was gripping empty air but he could feel the flesh beneath his fingers. Trying to focus on that feeling he released a relieved sigh when the rest of the arm, followed by the rest of Logan, reappeared. From the dirt under his fingernails to the permanent scowl on his face.

"Sorry." Clark apologized, shame faced at the sight of the bruises exposed when he let go of Logan's arm. He watched, fascinated, as those bruises faded and disappeared before his eyes. Much as his own did when he was younger. Though it had been several years since the last time he could remember really having one.

He was still in shock from the events of the morning and it showed in his babbling.

"It's been a strange morning and with all the metal and the blades…I'm afraid I over reacted."

Logan's eyebrow arched, his interest piqued. Blades, just what was going on here?

He would have pursued the subject further but a waft of perfume ( or was that Ben Gay ) crossed his sensitive nose, alerting him to the return of the secretary.

"Yeah, well.. What's say we discuss this more back at the mansion? Grab your stuff and let's go."

Logan watched Clark closely as they made their way out of the building. He noted that the boy was careful to keep his eyes on the floor before him, and the way he flinched whenever they passed someone in the hall. Soon enough they were outside in the parking lot where Clark seemed to relax a little. That is until he walked right into the side of a parked Volkswagen Jetta.

Clark stood slightly bent over, his hands resting on a cool metal surface that his eyes were telling him wasn't there. Concentrating, he focused on the surface beneath his hands until the dark blue hood of the car appeared. He frowned at the small dent his knee left in the front fender.

Logan didn't know what was wrong, or why the kid was walking around in a daze, but he quickly decided it would be best if they got out of the public eye.

"Come on kid." He grabbed Clark by the upper arm, forcefully guiding him towards the black van parked on the other side of the Volkswagen.

"But, what about the dent? Shouldn't we leave a note or something?"

"Don't worry about it. This is a school parking lot, he'll figure some punk with a driver's license and no brain did it. Besides, his insurance will pay for it and I really don't think we want to try explaining how you made that dent with your knee now, what do you think?"

The Kent in him cringed at the irresponsibility of dodging the blame, but he couldn't argue with Logan's logic. "Yeah, your probably right."

****(page break)

During the drive back to the mansion Clark remained pensive and quiet.

Logan could tell that the kid was upset about something but had no idea what. Unless it was still over Friday night's game. He decided to wait until they reached the mansion to try and get the boy talking, give him some time to think about it. God knew how much he hated it when people tried to get him to talk about his feelings.

Clark _was_ still unsettled by the events of Friday night and their close call with being exposed. If he wasn't ready to share his secret with Scott and the others then he certainly wasn't ready to share it with the all to often intolerant world as a whole, but that isn't what had him so upset.

It wasn't even the fact that though he could tell that the middle aged woman in the vehicle in the next lane had been grocery shopping. That among the items she had purchased were two one gallon bottles of skim milk and a ten pound bag of flour, or that according to the print on the bags she had done her shopping at a Piggly Wiggly. It wasn't the fact that in spite of being able to identify the contents of her vehicle, he couldn't identify its make or model because as far as his eyes were concerned the woman and her groceries were just floating two feet above the road.

The fact that he couldn't see things that were obviously there was troubling, but he figured that if Xavier could help Kitty learn to control her phasing and Jean her mental eavesdropping, then he could help him learn to control his new visual capacity. So no, that wasn't why it was bothering him.

It was because just when he was starting to get a handle on his abilities, to accept who he was, something new had to pop up out of the blue. He worried what else would change, if in the end he wouldn't be able to pass as human.

Of course Kurt didn't look human, couldn't pass for one without the aid of techno gadgetry. He knew that the blue furred boy had been that way his entire life, had it made painfully clear that the others still accepted him in spite of his strange appearance. There was some comfort in knowing that the same would probably apply to himself, but he couldn't forget the pain and loneliness the German youth projected when he spoke of his childhood.

Thinking of Kurt's past filled him with an intense longing to open up, to forge a link with someone else without the lies that constantly surrounded him.

Watching Clark out of the corner of his eye, Logan could tell the boy wanted to talk. Deciding that all he needed was a small push, Logan broached the silence.

"You have something you want to talk about kid? Look, I know I'm not the Professor and heaven knows I look nothing like Ororo…" He added the last with a self depreciating smirk. "but I'm willing to listen and I'm not about to judge you. So spit it out."

Despite his crude manner, Clark was touched by the sentiment.

He wasn't ready to risk rejection, but he decided to test the waters.

"When Kurt first arrived, looking the way he does, how did the others take it?"

Logan looked sideways at Clark, wondering where Kurt came into this? He also noticed that the kid still refused to look at him.

"They took it just fine. Why?"

Clark was clearly uncomfortable and Logan couldn't help but wonder where he was going with this.

"They didn't, you know, have problems with him being so different? Not even a little?"

Logan couldn't resist giving Clark a quick look over, confused by the boy's words. How did someone who looked like that, become what was starting to sound insecure about his appearance?

Of course Clark had been living with being a mutant for several years now, at least since he was twelve which made him one of the youngest to develop their powers that Logan had ever heard of, all without knowing that others like him existed or where his abilities came from. Under those circumstances Logan could kind of see how an already prone to be insecure teen might become even more paranoid about being accepted by their peers.

It was a childish fear but, he reminded himself, they were still just children.

"Look Kent, they just didn't, after all we're all different. We are all mutants and mutants stick up for each other. Even Mystique's brat pack support each other. So relax, try to enjoy life a little. You're not hiding on the farm anymore, here you're among your own kind and they won't reject you for being different."

Somehow his words didn't reassure Clark, quite the opposite.

"What if…what if a person wasn't a mutant, would they still accept him?"

Logan gave him a disgruntled look, it now sounded like the kid was arguing just for the sake of arguing.

"Now you're not making sense. Of course they don't have a problem accepting non-mutants, even Rogue has a friend who's a normal human and their ain't no third option."

Clark wasn't looking at him but at the rapidly approaching mansion. As Logan brought the van to a stop at the bottom of the front stair, Clark responded in a voice almost too quiet to hear.

"What if there was?"

Before Logan could respond, Clark was out of the van and making good his escape up the stairs.

****(page break)

The children weren't the only ones at the mansion on edge after their near exposure and when Logan left to pick up Clark, Xavier returned to his office, leaving Storm alone to fret about what might have happened to Clark that Dr. McCoy was calling home for him. She really hoped it was just a case of the stomach flu but she doubted it, Hank wouldn't have gotten involved over a bug.

When the chime of a bell ringing through the halls announced the opening of the gate and the return of Logan, she made her way to the front entrance perhaps a tad more hurried than normal.

When the van stopped at the foot of the stairs and she saw Clark exit the vehicle and head her way, she stepped outside to greet him. Looking at his face and downcast eyes, she could tell that he was upset about something and she moved to comfort him.

"Clark…" She started, drawing his eyes involuntarily up towards her.

She saw his face turn bright red and his jaw drop before he quickly turned his head, averting his eyes just as one of the potted shrubs lining the front stair spontaneously erupted into flame.

****(page break)

Chloe hadn't seen Alex all morning long and she was starting to wonder what was going on. Especially when lunch rolled around and he didn't join her at their usual spot. Usually he was the one to seek her out and his absence was starting to worry her. Deciding to seek him out for a change, she wandered the halls and grounds of the school, only to find him hiding out behind the bleachers of the baseball diamond.

He practically jumped when he saw her coming, his eyes darting around fearfully as if searching for approaching threats. He didn't greet her with his normal wave and smile either.

"All right Alex," She said, standing over him with her arms folded, the stance of a parent preparing to chastise their child. "why are you so jumpy and are you avoiding me?"

She watched in disbelief as he actually tried to push further back into the shadows.

"Chloe!" He hissed out in a hard whisper. "Do you think it's a good idea for us to be seen together, after yesterday I mean."

She couldn't believe this. "Of course it's a good idea, we do eat lunch together _every day_, it's what people expect. You do know that it is breaking your normal routine that attracts attention and makes you look guilty, right?"

It was like he had reverted to being ten over night. He at least had the good sense to blush in shame at her words.

"Oh, uh, yea I know that. It's just…they expel people for what we did. If anyone realized I was the one who pulled the alarm, or that we…_violated private records from the police_…" He was whispering, like he was afraid the thought police were going to jump out of the bushes and arrest them as anti government anarchists.

She decided to cut him off before he started referring to them as the lone gunmen, and then went out and bought one.

"Will you relax, no one even knows it happened and as for pulling the fire alarm, somebody does it almost every month at least once. They rarely get caught, the staff hardly even try to find out who did it."

Sitting on the grass beside him, she lay a hand on his arm, raising his blood pressure for a whole new reason.

"Everything is going to be fine. In fact, I predict that the only fall out from our extra curricular activities will be the writing of an article worth presenting to the Sun for publishing, and maybe the arrest of some serious lowlifes. I mean you should see Robert's record, it reads like the idiots guide to a future in crime. It's a wonder he isn't already in a cell somewhere. What we're doing is important and needs to be done. You should be proud to know that you're helping to make the world a better place."

That said, she blessed him with her brightest smile, causing him to forget why he was so afraid.

****(page break)

"What's wrong with Kent?" Logan asked as Xavier entered the kitchen where he and Storm were waiting, her sipping a cup of iced tea and him a cold beer in spite of the early hour. Ororo had given him a distinctly disapproving look when he took it from the fridge.

"Yes Charles," She added. "is everything all right?"

As she spoke she poured the Professor a glass of tea which he accepted with a gracious 'thank you, Ororo', pausing long enough to take a sip before answering.

"No, there is nothing wrong with Clark."

Logan snorted. "I don't think the kid would agree with ya Chuck."

"Yes well, it seems that Mr. Kent's gifts have not finished manifesting themselves and another did this morning at school. That is why Clark is so upset."

"Another Charles?" Ororo asked rhetorically, amazed at the idea that he had more than those already evidenced.

Logan was stunned as well. "Just how powerful is this kid? What aren't you telling us Chuck?"

Xavier shifted nervously in his chair, showing as much agitation as he ever had.

"I'm sorry Logan, Ororo, but I'm afraid that it is not my story to tell. Logan, you of all people should understand the desire to keep parts of yourself hidden. When Clark learns to trust us, then he will tell you himself. We need only be patient."

"Charles, are you saying that Clark is afraid we will betray him?" In a small way Ororo couldn't help feeling insulted.

Xavier moved to answer, but filled with sudden insight Logan beat him to it.

"Not betray, that's not what the kid is afraid of." Logan wanted to kick himself for not realizing it sooner, it was there in front of his face the whole time. "Kent is afraid we won't accept him."

Ororo found that even harder to understand.

"But, I thought you made it clear that this institute was created to be a home to all mutants, regardless of the nature of their mutations or the events of their pasts."

Mind reviewing his last conversation with the kid, Logan now saw it in a whole new light as insight, if not understanding, continued to come to him.

"We did…" He says to her. "but Kent doesn't think of himself as one of us. When we were driving home from the school he asked me if the others would accept someone who wasn't a mutant, only I don't think he meant a normal human."

Logan felt a surge of anger rise up within him as another possibility occurred to him.

"Chuck, is he the product of someone's twisted science project? I think we have the right to know."

He left unspoken the rest of the question, 'is he like me?'.

Charles hated not telling them, it felt too much like he was saying that he didn't trust them, but he wouldn't betray Clark.

"Yes you do…but you don't _need_ to know and I promised Clark I would leave the decision to tell you up to him. I'm sorry my friends but all I can tell you is that I believe Clark should be here and I ask you to accept him. It is my hope that if Clark feels that we trust him, than he will come to trust us. Please, be patient."

"Of course Charles." Ororo answered, giving Logan a meaningful look. "We both understand what it is like to be outsiders. We will do our best to make Clark feel at home."

"Thank you Ororo, Logan. Now if you will excuse me, I need to call Dr. McCoy and ask him to stop by the mansion this evening."

"Hank?" Logan asked. "Why?"

"I am hoping he will be willing to help train Clark in controlling his new ability."

"That would seem prudent." Ororo said around the lip of her glass. "We wouldn't want one of the other children to suffer the same fate as that poor shrub."

"Oh, yes…the shrub." Xavier said, the tone of his voice suggested that he had actually forgotten about the shrub until her words reminded him.

"Yea Chuck, the burning bush. The kid's new ability that you are going to call Hank about."

"Yes, well…you see, normally a mutant's gifts manifest themselves while he or she is experiencing some strong emotion. In the case of our poor shrub I believe teenage hormones were to blame. It was another gift that prompted Dr. McCoy to send Clark home."

"Okay, I'll bite. What is this ability that has Clark so bent out of shape?"

"I'm not sure if it is a mental or purely physical ability, but it seems that Clark is sometimes able to see things the rest of us can't…or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that sometimes he _doesn't_ see things that we do."

"What sort of things?" Logan asked.

Xavier struggled to hold back a smile. "Oh, little things; walls, doors, clothing…skin. If you'll excuse me, I need to make that call."

In spite of his claimed need for haste, the professor took his time maneuvering his chair out of the room, almost like he was waiting for something.

Ororo had gathered their glasses and was taking them to the sink when the Professor's words sank in. She remembered the way Clark was looking at her, his face flushed, right before the shrub caught fire.

'Skin…', "Charles!". Now it was her face that was flushed.

It was at this point that Xavier must have remembered he was in a hurry because he wasted no more time in escaping the room.

****(page break)

Johnny Corbin wasn't some low brow thug, a petty crook just looking for the next 'Big Score'. No he was the consummate professional, a driven perfectionist who never ignored the little details that could so easily derail even the most brilliant of plans.

He didn't have the extra advantage of 'powers' like Lucien and his little band of freaks. He made up for it with skill, hard work and experience.

Not that kidnapping adolescents was something he had a lot of experience with, corporate and military big wigs were more his speed. He was a mercenary, working for the highest bidder and at the prices he charged they only paid for real work, not fluff.

Not that anyone would consider what Luthor was paying him to do to be fluff.

Corbin had worked with the CIA, MI6 and several third world dictators, he had once been involved in the overthrow of a standing government, yet in twelve years of being in the show he had never been involved in a project as ambitious as Luthor's.

He had already lead his team on fourteen successful abductions and called off three that would have gone wrong.

If that whiney little white coat, Dr. Hansen's dramatics were to be believed that was only the tip of the iceberg. If the rumors were accurate, Lionel intended to triple the U.S.'s normal child kidnapping rate and none of these would be family abductions. This wasn't some banana republic in the third world were missing people were the norm, this was America were the FBI kept track of such things, they were going to draw attention sooner or later. He would really like to know how Luthor intended to deal with that.

Well, that wasn't his problem. He was being paid, and paid well, to acquire subjects for Luthor's scientists and that was all that mattered. He trusted Lionel to be smart enough to leave no trail behind and Johnny knew he was good enough that he wasn't.

Enough said, it was time to get back to work.

Today work brought him back to Renovo Pennsylvania, a village along the river with nearly two hundred years of history and not much else. He figured their couldn't be more than two thousand people in the whole town, probably a lot less. There were more people dwelling in Fairview, the town cemetery, than there were living in its streets, all eight of them. It was really just a small blip along the river and with state parks surrounding it in all four directions it was literally alone in the wilderness.

Small towns like this lacked the anonymity of the city, here everyone knew everyone else and their business. If a stranger so much as stopped at the local convenience store for five minutes he would get noticed, might even become the subject of dinner conversation. The key to a successful hit was knowing the habits of the subject and this level of attention made it really difficult to stake out a target properly. It was for this reason that Corbin's team was coming back, instead of having taken their target during their first visit.

Their target's name was Haley Hall, a fourteen year old Caucasian girl from a less than affluent family. From everything Johnny's teammate Oscar Morris, the team's hacker, was able to find she was a bona fide overachiever. Straight 'A' student, member of the town's youth council, aiming for college and working hard to get there. Corbin liked her, almost felt bad about derailing her dreams…almost. He wasn't paid to have a conscience.

Unable to shadow her using traditional methods, Corbin's team instead visited the town more than a month ago and under the cover of night placed hidden cameras at all the major intersections, it didn't take many. They hid the transceiver in an abandoned Dollar store right on Huron Ave, the closest thing the town had to a main street. Then using facial recognition software they tracked her path about town to learn her usual haunts and schedule.

Like most teenage girls she seemed to spend a lot of time randomly wandering with her friends, but in time the beginnings of a useable pattern emerged.

Johnny sent Patricia Robinson, the team psychologist, in to make contact.

Patricia was good at playing the harmless innocent and had talked the girl up, learning that every Tuesday evening she attended a computer class at the town library. Setting up an additional camera overlooking the front of the library, Corbin quickly concluded that it would be the best place to take her.

So it was that when Tuesday night rolled around, Corbin and his team were ready.

Using their traffic cameras Corbin had identified a likely cover vehicle, a local van that while quite common during the day was rarely seen at night when the owner apparently frequented a small country bar on the other side of town. It was a white GMC with a heavy metal ladder rack on the top, mag wheels and a blue hood with a checkerboard pattern of star shaped cut outs across it.

When they drove into town that evening no one looked at it twice.

Driving down Huron they passed the local garage and gas station. Given that the streets were originally laid out with horse and buggy in mind, there wasn't enough room between the building and the street, so the gas pumps were literally planted in the sidewalk. A little kick point between black top and building the only place for attending cars to get off the road.

They passed an old brick church house on the right, Corbin never cared enough to check the denomination, then in front of a Napa auto parts store they turned right down seventh street. It was no more than a small alley, squeezed in between the colonial homes of brick and wood but it led straight to where the library perched overlooking the river. The only other street to pass near the literary repository, Ontario, was a one way and went opposite the way they came into town.

The library was a plain, red brick, two story structure that sat at a right angle to the river. The front half, both upper and lower floors, formed an open well the walls of which were lined with rows and rows of book shelves. The back half was made up of offices, work rooms, storage areas and a conference slash computer access area that served as a class room when needed.

Studying the video feed, they learned that there were only four other people besides Haley in the class and with the exception of her they all drove. Haley lived only a short distance away and walked.

She worked as a part time assistant at the library and so was always the last student to leave, almost ten minutes after the others. The teacher would usually leave about twenty minutes after that. Corbin figured that gave them a ten minute window to grab the girl and get out of town. Then maybe an hour before someone started looking for her. By midnight he figured the whole town would be out looking for her.

That's the way it was in these small towns, not much privacy but a lot of community support.

There was little margin for error on this job and if the hue and cry went up, with only a few winding mountain roads out of town, even less chance of escape.

The van's driver, Paolo, parked near the vehicle entrance and Corbin turned in the passenger seat to survey his crew.

Paolo Nesci was a disgraced Italian race car driver turned wheel man after his aggressive driving on the track led to another driver's death. He was good and he knew it, behind the wheel he felt no fear, no doubt. He was reckless, Corbin didn't like him and would have kicked him off the team if Lionel gave the okay.

In the back were Laila Johns and Kane Collins.

Kane was your stereotype thug. A large man who's only talents seemed to lie in the dealing of violence. He was far from the smartest man Corbin had ever worked with, but he knew his trade and followed orders.

Laila was a pretty and athletic brunette who really didn't look the part of a mercenary. She once dreamed of a medical career and joined the army right out of high school as a field medic. She was good at it but unfortunately her rather casual take on interpersonal relations, and her tendency to fraternize, led to her quietly being encouraged to leave after her tour was over. During her stint in the Army she developed an appetite for action that eventually led to her current place on this team.

Johnny held no moral qualms about her behavior and as long as she didn't start sleeping with her teammates he was more than willing to overlook her little foible. He had already decided that she was someone worth remembering after their little stint with Luthor was over. Good help can be so hard to find.

At Corbin's direction Paolo parked the van near the parking lot entrance, the nose facing towards the street and the side door into the lot. There they sat and waited, watching as the other students left the library, entered their vehicles and left. Once the last car disappeared from sight, Johnny looked over his team as if waiting for any questions. When none proved forth coming he climbed out of the van and casually made his way to the far corner of the lot where he lit up a cigarette and proceeded to smoke it.

Kane left through the back doors, moving around the van, placing its bulk between him and anyone leaving the library.

Laila waited by the side door, a syringe in her right hand, left waiting on the door handle.

The syringe was encased in a spring loaded metal sleeve, designed so that a punching motion against the skin would cause the needle to pop out, injecting its payload into the target's body. Originally designed for use in the battle field, it had quickly found its way into the hands of nut house orderlies. It had proven a safe and convenient way to sedate patients who put up a fight.

Paolo waited behind the wheel, ready to start the engine and leave at a moments notice.

Each knew their part, had performed it several times already. Once an action was planned Corbin would have them stage dry rehearsal runs until they had it down pat. He didn't want any confusion or mistakes screwing things up.

****(page break)

Haley Hall was a petite girl with light red hair that turned more strawberry blonde during the summer and a perky nature that refused to be kept down. Intelligent and well liked, she was her parent's pride and joy and she worked hard not to let them, or herself, down.

Wearing sneakers and a knee length yellow skirt, she pulled a red windbreaker on over her white cotton blouse. Throwing her backpack over her shoulder, she said goodnight to her teacher and walked out the library doors into the cooling October night.

Walking the length of the front of the building, she saw a strange man in dark slacks and jacket smoking a cigarette by the corner of the parking lot.

A quick survey of the lot proved that he was the only other person present and she felt a nervous spike of fear enter her bowels.

Seeing only Tony Daniels' van on the other side of the lot, she swerved to make her way past it, avoiding the stranger. She had never seen Mr. Daniels or his van anywhere near the library before, but it was familiar and thus non threatening, unlike the man in the other corner.

Inside the van Paolo watched her approach in the passenger side mirror. When she drew up alongside the van he signaled Kane who rushed around the back to grab her from behind, followed by Laila sliding the side door open.

Trying not to let it show, Haley's entire attention had been focused on the strange man smoking on the far side of the lot. So it came as a complete surprise when Kane grabbed hold of her arms from behind, pining them to her sides as the door of the van opened.

Feeling strange hands upon her, Haley panicked, all thought fled from her mind as she struggled desperately to escape. When those hands suddenly slipped off her arms, she stumbled to the ground.

Kane didn't have to struggle much to hold the small girl in his hands, her strength was nothing compared to his. So it came as a big surprise when she slipped from his grasp, stumbling to the ground before him. Especially since she didn't leave him empty handed. In the space she once occupied, grasped tightly within his hands, stood another girl only this one seemed to be made of smokey blue glass and she was much stronger than Haley.

Corbin watched out of the corner of his eye as Kane ambushed the girl. He was making his way across the lot to get in front of her when he saw her slip free of the big man's grasp, leaving the blue tinged figurine in her place. Seeing that Kane was now on the losing end of the fight, their target already rising on unsteady feet set to flee, he broke into a run to cut her off.

"Damn!" He yelled into the mike attached to the collar of his jacket. "She's erupted! Laila, hit her!"

Kane may have been occupied but the rest of the team was free and moved like a well oiled machine, adapting to the changing circumstances.

In her adrenaline fueled state, Haley didn't even feel the needle pierce jacket and blouse to enter the flesh at the small of her back. All thought focused on escape, she was just changing direction to escape the smoking man charging towards her when her quickly numbing feet failed sending her crashing into the pavement on her belly, scraping the palms of her hands. By the time Corbin scooped her up into his arms she couldn't see light anymore.

The glass figure fighting with Kane, manifestation of her mutant gift, faded with her consciousness as the drugs flooded Haley's system.

"Kane, your up front! Laila, help me get her in the van! Paolo, get us out of here!"

With the brunette's help, Johnny bundled the unconscious girl into the back of the van. Kane slid the door shut behind them before jumping into the front passenger seat. The big man's butt hardly hitting vinyl before Paolo had them rolling. Taking a left down Ontario, the one way street afforded them a straight shot out of town to the highway following the river west, they were soon lost in the night.

Corbin was right, come midnight there wasn't a single soul in town asleep in their beds. Everyone who was able to walk was combing the streets and surrounding woods for the town's missing daughter. By two o'clock, the state troopers had roadblocks up on all four roads out of town, but by then it was too late.

With an I.V. in her arm and Laila monitoring her vitals, Haley slept the entire drive to the airport and all through the flight to Nevada.

Author's notes:

Corbin is now on the scene and on a collision course with Chloe (though she doesn't know it yet).

Xavier and his staff know about Clark's x-rated vision (with a hint of his heat vision) and will now begin to train him to control it (I thought the method would be obvious and remember being somewhat dumbfounded when the Smallville show had Jonathon and Martha playing the role of the clueless).

Hopefully the final scene with Storm was at least a little funny (I have a hard time with humor).

Next chapter: Kitty confronts Lance, Hank visit's the mansion and the x-men get their first hint that all is not right in the world.

To answer a few questions:

I know my progression of Clark's powers doesn't match that in the show, this is for three reasons that I tried to explain in the beginning. First, it has been years since I watched Smallville and my memory of it isn't perfect. Second, my Clark mixes with the one from the first (and so far only real) movie which didn't portray Clark as quite so powerful at that age. This way he won't so easily overwhelm the characters from the Marvel universe. Last but not least, he's at Xavier's school, not a farm in Kansas. A place dedicated to helping gifted youngsters develop their powers with a staff far more experienced than his well meaning parents. That has to have an affect. There won't be any tights, but Clark will be flying before graduation.

I have plans for Jor'El and the ship, but will probably skip the caves as they are too far away to really work with.

The reference to the number three in parenthesis; if you look at the listing for any show on FF, you will see a number in parenthesis that indicates how many stories there are in that category. Right now Smallville/Evolution only has three; mine, Ben's and a short about the two speed demons. I'm just saying I would like to have more to read than just Ben's (he just doesn't update quick enough to feed the need).

Regarding Clark's holy man impersonation. I would just point out that until he realized he was actually seeing Brandi au natural, and thus doing something wrong, he was very much enjoying the view. Even after the guilt and confusion set in, he only looked away from the naked girls when something else pulled him away. The fact that he kept seeing the girls naked (unlike Hank or Logan) was because he really wanted to.

Comments and suggestions are welcome. Critiques of my writing are especially desired. Point out my mistakes and give suggestions on how I might improve, please.


	14. Chapter 14 Behind the Scenes

Chapter 14: Behind the Scenes

As was the norm in high school, word traveled quickly and by lunch period everyone had heard about Clark's little episode. When the other students returned to the mansion they learned that he was isolated in a lab with Dr. McCoy. All the adults would tell them was that Clark had exhibited a new ability and Hank was helping him learn to control it.

No one would tell them what that new ability was.

When asked Logan just chuckled and redirected their question to Storm. She told them to ask the Professor, then left the room. Lois could have sworn she was blushing as she walked out the door.

Still hypersensitive from Friday night, the other kids from the institute found it easy to imagine the worst.

All but Kitty that is.

While the petite brunette was usually one of the first to jump on the gossip band wagon, on this day she had more pressing matters on her mind, that being her promise to confront Lance about keeping their mutual secret.

She had been trying to catch him at school all day but found no sign of him, or Fred and Toad either. Pietro was there but she just couldn't stomach the arrogant speedster, so she decided she would only approach him as a last resort.

The evening meal came and went and still no sign of Clark. When asked, Professor Xavier told them that Mr. Kent would be spending the night in the med lab beneath the mansion, "for observation" he said. Which was really kind of funny given that Dr. McCoy left _before_ dinner.

Later that evening Jean was on the phone with her beau, Duncan, and the topic of conversation was, of course, Clark.

"No Duncan, Clark didn't freak out…I don't care what Brandi said, Clark just wasn't feeling good so Dr. McCoy sent him home."

She couldn't very well tell him that Clark came home because he was having trouble controlling a new mutant ability, even if she had known what that ability was. Jean trusted Duncan, was _pretty_ confident that he would understand, but they had all promised not to tell anyone else about the connection between mutants and the institute unless it was absolutely unavoidable and in the case of Duncan it was _very_ avoidable. To be honest, if Jean had told him he probably wouldn't have been paying enough attention to anything besides her chest to even hear something as insignificant as her words.

He certainly wasn't listening now, even without the distraction of her body. Mathews was sure Clark was just a spaz and was doing his Neanderthal best to tell her so, when Jean's attention was snatched away by a telepathic summons from the Professor.

*Jean, would you please join me in my study?*

*I'll be right there Professor.* She sent back.

Returning her attention to the phone, she interrupted her boyfriend's tirade. "I'm sorry Duncan but Professor Xavier needs me…He's not so bad…I know. Look, I'll see you in school tomorrow. Got to go, bye." She hung up before he could argue further.

Duncan was just so attentive and caring, he never seemed at all demanding or possessive to Jean. Of course, she was also a natural blonde underneath all the red.

Leaving the phone in the hall, Jean quickly made her way to the Professor's study where she found him waiting with Logan. Rahne, Jubilee and Roberto arrived right behind her.

"Ahh, ladies, Roberto, I am afraid I'm going to have to ask you all to miss school tomorrow." Xavier smiled at the obvious signs of disappointment exhibited by his students. Clearly the only one to find the prospect of skipping school to be less than desirable was Jean. She, after all, had just told Duncan that she would see him there.

"What is it Professor?" The redhead asked, brushing her disappointment aside and getting right down to business.

The others were also curious, what could be important enough that the Professor would ask them to skip school? He didn't leave them wondering for long.

"A short while ago Cerebro detected a new mutant signature."

Xavier turned the monitor on his desk around so they could see the image on the screen. It was a picture of a teenage girl with reddish blonde hair.

Given that it was a less than flattering head shot, and that the girl in it did not appear to be old enough to drive yet, Jean was guessing that it was the picture from a school ID card. She now knew what was up and looked towards her classmates as the Professor continued with his explanation.

"This young lady is Haley Hall, from Renovo Pennsylvania. She is fourteen and an only child. I would like the four of you to accompany Mr. Logan to Renovo and invite her to join us. Jean, you will extend our offer but I want the rest of you to make her feel welcome, let her know that she is not alone. I'm sure you all remember what it was like when your own abilities first manifested. Miss Hall and her parents are most likely a little frightened by what has happened. It will be up to all of you to relieve that fear."

He gave them all a searching look. "Does anyone feel they shouldn't go?" He asked.

When the only response he received were several nervously excited smiles, he felt pride for his students swell up within him.

"Thank you. I know I can count on you all to do your best."

Logan's gruff voice intruded upon their Kodak moment. "That's great and all Charles, but if we're gonna find your girl tomorrow then we're gonna have to get an early start. These kids had better get to bed."

"Yes, of course Logan. Good night everyone."

The four teens followed Logan out of the Professor's study. Roberto gave a wave and a 'See ya tomorrow', before peeling off and heading for the boys floor. Jean was making her way to a phone. She had to call Duncan and tell him not to pick her up in the morning. She knew he wasn't going to take it well and she wasn't looking forward to arguing with him, especially since she couldn't tell him why.

If only he didn't worry about her so much.

****(Page break)

While Jean was convincing her boyfriend that she really needed to do whatever it was that was keeping her from riding to school with him in the morning, Clark was deep under the mansion practicing his new ability.

The X-ray thing, not the heat vision.

Dr. McCoy had come by after school to help.

When Charles called and told him what was going on with Mr. Kent his explanation brought a raised brow and amused chuckle from the burly teacher, as he reviewed the earlier events in the hall from his newly informed perspective. It certainly cast Clark's behavior that morning in a new and amusing light.

Storm and Logan greeted him on the front steps and Hank immediately noted the charred bush half way up the stairs. When he asked about it Logan nearly fell over laughing, Storm blushed and fled into the house. Hank decided he didn't need to ask for details. Logan led him into the chambers below where Clark sat nervously waiting.

"Hello again Clark."

"Dr. McCoy?" Clark was surprised to see one of his teachers at the mansion, or at least in the basement. It was, after all, supposed to be a secret.

Hank recognized his reaction for what it was, and though he had no desire to answer any 'personal questions', he saw nothing wrong with explaining his presence.

"Relax Clark, Professor Xavier and I have been friends since before you were born. I was here when he first built all of this. Now to the point, Charles tells me that you are having some vision problems."

"You could say that." Clark responded with a sardonic and slightly bitter smile. "I apologize for not looking you in the face right now, but the experience is somewhat unpleasant for me." He shuddered at the memory of seeing his teacher without his skin.

"That's okay Clark, I quite understand. Now, let's see if together we can't master your new gift."

Hank had then gone over to one of the supply cabinets and removing a box of gauze, opened it and dumped its contents out on the counter. He brought the empty box over and placed it on a rolling table before Clark. Then he reached into his own wallet and removed his driver's license. Holding the small card in front of Clark's eyes, he told the teen "Clark, I want you to focus on my picture on this license."

Clark flinched when his teacher's hand first crossed before his eyes, expecting to see bare muscle and grisly bones. He was relieved when instead he saw a normal hand. He tried to concentrate on the man's picture on the left half of the card.

"Can you see my picture Clark?" Hank asked.

"Yes Mr. McCoy."

"Good, now I'm going to move my hand inside the box but I want you to keep focusing on the picture, can you do that Clark?"

"Yea, I think so."

Careful not to move too fast or remove the object in his hand from Clark's line of sight, Hank slowly lowered it and his hand within the barrier of the box.

"Can you still see the picture Clark?" He asked a few seconds after placing it within the box.

"Yes." Clark answered, confused.

"Good." Hank said encouragingly, before using his other hand to turn the box around so its front was now facing Clark. "Now I want you to tell me what it says on the label of the box."

"I'm sorry Mr. McCoy," Clark responded with a frustrated sigh. "but I can't see the box, it might as well not be there as far as my eyes are concerned."

"That's okay Clark." Hank gave their predicament a moment of thought. "Alright, I want you to close your eyes."

"Okay." Clark closed his eyes, holding them shut until his teacher told him otherwise.

"Good. Now picture the box in your mind's eye. Can you see it?" When Clark nodded, Hank told him to open his eyes. "Now can you see the box?"

"Yes, it says made with 100 percent, real cotton."

"Alright. Now I want you to tell me my birthday." Hank made sure he wasn't covering that line on his license with his thumb. No need to make this any harder than it had to be.

"May 15, 1973." Clark responded promptly, a little too promptly.

"Clark, are you reading that off of my license?"

The boy fidgeted a little guiltily.

"I…No. I saw it earlier before you told me to focus on the picture."

Hank's brow rose, impressed. "That's quite the memory you have there. Do you remember everything you see?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

A photographic memory wasn't really a mutant gift, at least not as current medicine defined such, but it was a valuable one all the same. Still, that was something to investigate later. Right now they were concentrating on Clark's vision.

"All right Clark. I want you to look past the box and read it off of my license anyway. Remember seeing the card and focus your eyes on it. Can you see it?"

"Uhm…Doctor, your holding the card turned backwards."

Hank couldn't hold back his smile. "Yes I am Clark."

Turning the license back around, he had the boy spend several minutes shifting his focus from the license to the box and then back again until Clark could do it every time.

That was earlier, right now Clark was watching a news feed on a computer monitor with a portable white screen pulled down in front of it. A projector was displaying random slides from a field trip on the screen and Clark would shift his focus from the monitor to the new image every time the machine beeped, announcing a change in slides. Back and forth, back and forth, until he could do it without thinking about it.

Before he left, Hank stopped by Xavier's study to report on their progress.

"So, you are confident Clark will be able to control this ability?" Charles had asked. To which Hank nodded affirmatively.

"Yes Charles. It is really no different than looking through a window with raindrops on it. You just have to learn to focus on what lies beyond the glass and not on the drops. Still, there may be slip ups, especially if Clark is distracted or caught by surprise. You might consider finding a way to physically inhibit his sight, something similar to Scott's visor perhaps."

"Yes, perhaps…" Charles responded absently, his thoughts focused on the boy below. "I will talk to Forge, maybe he will have some ideas. Thanks again Hank, I really appreciate your help."

"Your welcome Charles, it was my pleasure."

Xavier gave him a speculative look. "Have you considered my offer to join us here at the institute? We could really use your help on a regular basis."

Hank looked past his old friend, watching the trees wave in the wind outside the window.

"Yes Charles, I have considered it. I'm sorry, but that's just not where I plan on going with my life. At least, not right now."

"I understand Hank. Just remember that my offer stands, there will always be a place for you here."

"Thank you Charles. If you'll excuse me, I have papers to grade before school tomorrow."

****(Page break)

Wednesday morning, before the rest of the kids at the mansion woke up to begin the day, Logan and the Scooby Gang were already in a private plane on their way to Pennsylvania. It wasn't the X-Jet, just a JetPROP DLX driven by a single Pratt and Whitney turbo prop engine that Charles kept for more practical use. It couldn't go super sonic, had a flight ceiling of only twenty-seven thousand feet, and lacked all of Xavier's other little toy's stealth measures. It did have one advantage though, it could openly land at William T. Piper Memorial Airport in Lock Haven Pennsylvania, where an Enterprise rental car was waiting to pick them up.

Ironically enough, it was the same airport that only hours before Corbin's team had used to spirit Miss Hall away.

By noon, Logan and the Gang were loaded up in a club wagon van and traveling down Highway one-twenty. The self same road that eventually turned into main street in Renovo Pennsylvania.

****(Page break)

After a frustrating morning Kitty had all but given up on catching Lance at school and her insides tied themselves into knots at the thought of seeking him out at the brotherhood mansion. Then she spotted him and his two cronies holding court at the farthest most table of the school courtyard. Approaching their table she thought they looked a little down, skittish even.

That changed once Lance saw her coming.

"Hey Kitty." He called. "Decided to dodge the 'X' geeks and hang with some real men?"

"Yeah, real men…" Toad cut in. "…not like that stiff Cyclops. That boy needs to learn how to have fun. Ain't that right Fred?"

The big man just scowled, remembering his little trip from the top of the bleachers to the ground. While it hadn't really hurt him, it did deprive him of some much anticipated fun.

"Yeah, well…" Kitty liked her dry lips. "…that's kind of why I'm here. Lance, we need to talk."

"Uh, sure Kitty." Alvers rose from his seat, following as she led him a short distance away.

"Hey, you two don't do anything we wouldn't do!" Toad called after them, a lecherous leer on his face.

"Toad, you're disgusting!" Kitty shot back.

"Cool it guys, we're just gonna talk. I'll be back in a minute."

Things at the boarding house had been somewhat tense since Friday night and Lance wasn't in the mood for Tolansky's teasing, not in front of Kitty.

Having escaped to the shade of a tree, Kitty swallowed before turning to confront her would be boyfriend.

"Listen Lance, what you guys did Friday, that was really uncool. Did you even think about what that would do to the rest of us?"

Avalanche already regretted their little show, but it had been his decision and he couldn't help getting defensive when she questioned it.

"Come on Kitty, it's not like we really have anything to hide. We're better than the rest of these losers, we should be proud of our abilities, not hiding them in shame."

The rhetoric may be different, the infusion of superiority lacking, but in the end Xavier and Magneto both agreed that they shouldn't be ashamed of being mutants. It was one thing Kitty wasn't prepared to argue with him over, but that still left a lot of room to complain about his methods.

"Yea, well there's a big difference between being ashamed and just plain stupid. Lance, you attacked the principal, what did you think was going to happen?"

He wasn't about to admit it, but Lance really hadn't thought about the possible fallout. At least not beyond it ticking off Summers. He certainly hadn't expected to come home to a scene right out of Stephen King's Carrie, with every sharp metal object in the house flinging themselves at him and the others, imbedding themselves into the walls. He also hadn't expected to spend the weekend trying to get his jeep out of the tallest tree in the neighborhood. Damn that Magneto, he abandons them, then still figures he has the right to boss them around. He didn't even have the courage to confront them face to face. Of course it was far more intimidating that he didn't have to.

"Well?" Kitty asked, a put out look on her face.

Lance scowled, having to walk to school had put him in a foul mood and while being with Kitty usually left him feeling a little euphoric, that wasn't the case today.

"Look Kitty, we're just tired of being ignored and treated like we're nobodies. I mean, Magneto may be a real prick but he's right about one thing; we are special. We have abilities all these normal kids can only dream about. So tell me, why should we hide it? What do we have to be afraid of?"

"Oh, I don't know…maybe the Army, Navy and Marines! Not to mention that I want to get invited to the homecoming dance, something that won't happen if every boy in school thinks I'm some kind of freak!"

"Not every boy would think you're a freak." Lance tried to affect casual nonchalance, not wanting to let on how much he wished he could ask her to the dance.

A shy nervousness stole over Kitty. She knew he wanted to ask her out, she just wasn't sure yet if she would say yes. "Yea well, it still wouldn't be much fun if everyone else left as soon as we arrived. Look Lance, maybe I don't want to be special. I just want to get through high school and maybe have a little fun while I'm at it. Is that too much to ask?"

Lance hated it when she gave him those kitten eyes, it always left him feeling flustered and confused. Not to mention making it damn near impossible to tell her no.

"All right Kitty, we'll hold off on making anymore big announcements. Does that make you happy?"

Kitty was giddy with relief. "Yea Lance, thanks. I'll…uh, see you around."

She walked off, mission accomplished.

It was a relief for Lance to. Somehow it felt different telling himself that he was holding off because Kitty asked him to, not because he was afraid of what Magneto would do if he threatened to spill the beans again. He shuddered at the thought of the iron enema the mega mutant would give him if he did.

****(Page break)

While Kitty was talking to Lance; Logan, Jean and the others were just passing a St. Joseph's Cemetery and a sign that read; Welcome to North Bend. According to the map on Jean's computer, North Bend was even smaller than Renovo. It also told them that their destination was only a couple of miles further down the road.

For most of the trip all there had been to see were trees, the rail road tracks on the left side of the road and the river beyond that. Both the road and the tracks paralleled the river's watery course. Once they passed the sign though, more houses began to appear on the river's side of the road. It looked like they were just coming into the town proper when they spotted a highway patrol car partially blocking off the other lane. It was at the near end of a bridge crossing over a deep ravine, a dry river bed from the look of it, that traveled from the north down to the river on the south. It made a fair obstacle, anyone leaving North Bend or Renovo beyond and traveling east would have to cross this bridge. A good place for a road block.

As they approached an officer exited the police car, waving them to a stop. Pulling up along side, Logan rolled down his window.

"Mornin' officer. What can I do for ya?" Logan's voice had shifted slightly into an old country twang. Somehow it actually made him seem less threatening.

"Morning sir." The patrolman responded, taking advantage of the opportunity to glance through the van's windows, looking over the kids inside. "Sorry to inconvenience you, but I'm sure you've heard about our missing girl on the radio."

Logan gave him a look that said 'I ain't got a clue', then glanced down at the van's radio. It was turned off. The kids didn't care for Logan's taste in music and he was equally less than fond of theirs, so they had left it off.

"No, I'm afraid not. Ain't had the radio on this morning'. Who's missin?"

"Oh, just one of the local girls, a teenager. She didn't return home last night and it's got folks hereabout worried. Don't worry, we'll find her. You just be careful to stay out of the way and if you see anything suspicious, call it in. Have a nice day." He gave them all a wave and a practiced smile.

They waved in return as Logan pulled away, already rolling his window up.

"He lied." Jean stated out of the blue.

"Huh…?" Logan grunted questioningly.

"The officer, they don't think she ran away or is just missing. They're looking for kidnappers and searching the woods for a body. Also, he's calling in our plate number."

Logan scowled, wishing he had a cigar. "Alright, shouldn't be a problem. He'll call in the plate and the rental place will tell him we arrived at the airport this morning. If this girl went missing last night, we're in the clear."

Jean shook her head. "There is a problem Logan. The girl who's missing, it's Halley Hall. The girl we came to see."

****(Page break)

Clark stayed home from school on Wednesday. He also called in sick to work, though he made the call Tuesday evening. While the other kids were getting ready for school, he was hiding out in the basement like a leper. It wasn't because anyone was making him stay in isolation, or making him feel unwanted, the other students didn't even know about his new vision yet. No, Clark was hiding out by his own choice. It was just too hard to face the others when his vision might freak at any moment showing him skinless faces and walking skeletons.

He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but the truth was he was afraid to face the girls. Deep down he knew the temptation would be too great, that his suppressed desire to see…well, what there was to see, would ensure that he did. He didn't think he would be able to face them after that.

So he stayed in the basement, the nice PG rated basement.

In spite of his clean and essentially comfortable surroundings, it was the most unpleasant morning he had yet spent at the mansion. Needless to say when Forge rolled in at nine, Clark was more than happy to see him. Especially since the other boy was polite enough to retain his skin.

"Hey man, you must be Clark. I'm Forge, how's it hangin?"

Clark stared at the other boy for a moment, tempted to ask how what was hanging, when he remembered Kurt telling about how he found Forge trapped in a bubble since the seventies. With that in mind, the yellow shirt with the big collar almost made sense. Not fashion sense, but at least it fit in context. That led to the realization that Forge was older than Dr. McCoy, maybe even as old as the Professor.

"Hi. Kurt told me you were the one who programmed the tower of Mordor sim."

Forge grinned. He was a not so secret Tolkein-phile and especially proud of that particular piece of work.

"Yea, that's me. I watched the recording of your first attempt, quite impressive. With a little more practice you might even beat the Nazgul. You should try some of my other programs. But fun time later, we my friend have work to do. Come on."

Forge waved for Clark to follow and left the lab.

Intrigued, Clark followed.

Forge led him down several halls and to the reinforced door of the Danger Room.

"I thought you said we were going to work, 'fun later'?"

"Well, yea." Forge answered, stepping through the door into the domed chamber beyond. "But the Danger Room is good for far more than playing video games. Its projectors can replicate anything I can think up…at least within the room and up to the limits of the power available."

The mutant looked around the room with a tender look of pride and affection.

"This room is easily the coolest thing I've ever worked on." Turning, he gave Clark a mischievous smile. "At least, so far."

Pulling what looked like a cell phone with a touch screen face from a slip case on his belt, Forge began tapping away at it, bringing the room to life.

"Professor Xavier wants us to find the limits of what you can see through, so I figure we just use the toys in here to project samples of different materials…"

A shiny silver orb, eight feet in diameter, formed in the center of the room.

"So why don't you try to see through that," Gesturing to the orb, "and tell me what you find inside."

Strangely, the native American boy had a hard time saying that with a straight face.

Shrugging off the oddities of Forge's behavior, writing it off as the results of the drug culture of the seventies, Clark focused on the metal ball, looking past the surface. When Forge saw his face flush red, he knew he had done it.

"Aw, Barbi Benton." Forge said with an air of worship. "Just as Hugh captured her. Twenty years trapped just short of the girls showers, man you have no idea how much I wished I had your gift."

Distracted, Clark managed to pull his gaze away from the surprise inside the ball, the sensation of heat behind his eyes reminding him of what happened to the bush outside.

"Could you not do that? This is hard enough as it is." He complained.

"Hard, huh?" Forge gave him a sly grin.

Which Clark returned with a glare.

Shaking his head ruefully, Forge expressed his envy and disappointment. "Man, you have got to learn to loosen up, enjoy the gifts nature has given you. Not to mention the fairer half of the species."

Clark's only response was a disapproving stare.

"All right, all right, spoil sport. We'll get back to work." Tapping the touch screen again. "How about this stuff, can you see through it?"

"What am I going to see if I do?" Clark asked suspiciously.

"Uncle Sam in a speedo." Forge replied with a straight face, which quickly broke into a grin. "Relax man, I'm joking. How about a stop sign, that okay with you?"

"Yea." Clark answered, but there was just a trace of disappointment in his voice. Something Forge didn't miss. Clark may not have been raised in the excessive and permissive environment of the seventies, but he was still a teenage boy.

"Alright man, do your stuff." Forge instructed with a grin.

For the next hour Forge replicated every substance known to man, at the end of that time they had identified only three that Clark couldn't see through; Adamantium, depleted Uranium and lead.

Charles Xavier was looking over papers on his desk when Forge entered his study without knocking.

"Hey Professor." He announced himself, placing a folded pair of glasses on the desk. "Here you go."

Picking them up, Xavier studied the lenses. They were a little thicker than normal and created just the slightest distortion as he looked through them.

"Leaded glass." Forge responded to the Professor's unasked question. "While they won't stop Clark's magic peepers, they do make it take an effort. Enough that he won't be violating anyone's privacy, at least without honestly meaning to. What a waste."

Charles gave his guest a raised brow. Forge tended to remind him of all the things about the seventies he would really rather forget.

"Thank you Forge. I'm sure these will make things much easier for Clark.""Yea, the prude." Forge responded with a resigned shake of his head. "Well, I better head home now. Call me if you need anything else."

"Speaking of which…" Xavier called him back. "Have you finished programming the Danger Room with those new scenarios we discussed?"

"Almost. I'll have the first one ready by tomorrow night."

"Very good. Thanks again Forge. I fear such experiences will become all too real in no time."

Forge didn't seem too upset by the idea. "Yea, well it's bound to happen some time. Might as well be sooner as later. More time won't make it any easier."

As Forge left the office, Xavier was thinking that his final words were all too true.

****(Page break)

Renovo Pennsylvania was definitely a town out of sorts. The streets were filled with people rushing about with no destination in mind, just the need to move. There were also more cops than the town likely saw in a year.

The group from Xavier's institute slowly made their way across town, drawing not so friendly stares from people along the way.

"Well, don't look like it would do much good to visit the Halls now." Logan surmised, scanning the wary faces watching them slowly pass. "I doubt their in the mood to entertain guests right now."

"What are we going to do?" Rahne asked, her voice tinged with worry for a girl she had never even met.

After giving it a moments thought, Logan answered. "We find someplace local to stop for lunch. That will give Jean a chance to mental eavesdrop on the locals. Maybe we can find out what happened. Chuck wouldn't want us to just give up on the girl."

Jean wasn't too comfortable with the idea of invading the minds of strangers without asking, but this was important so she nodded yes.

Forty five minutes later they were leaving the 'Yesterday's Restaurant', a country café that seemed to double as the local museum with the walls lined with old pictures and knick-knacks from the past. Logan recognized most all of them, though he couldn't remember were from. The giant hole in his memory was a constant source of frustration.

"They sure are friendly." Jubilee said sarcastically after they entered the privacy of their rented van.

"Yea, well with a local girl missing folks are going to be suspicious of outsiders. What did you learn Red?"

They all turned to Jean, waiting expectantly for her report.

"Everyone in town seems to know her and their all very worried. Apparently she was attending a computer class at the local library last night and that was the last anyone has seen of her."

"The library huh?" Logan rubbed his chin, eyes speculative. "Maybe we should visit, soak up some local culture and see what we can sniff up." He gave Rahne a meaningful glance as he said the last. She gave a brief nod, willing to try if it would help.

"Okay Jean, where's it at?"

"Go down this way." She answered, directing with the point of a finger.

The Renovo Township Library was pretty standard fare, with the exception of the two state trooper cars in the parking lot. Logan parked next to a worn Honda.

"Jean, do your thing and let's do this as quickly and quietly as possible."

Climbing out of the van, Jean focused her efforts on sending out a mental pulse, a subconscious suggestion that everyone look the other way. It wasn't perfect but as long as they did nothing to attract attention, they wouldn't get any.

Looking around nervously, Rahne said: "I don't know what you expect me to find? I don't know this girl's scent and there are going to be a lot of them with everyone in town searching for her."

Logan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Just try, maybe you'll find something that doesn't belong." He didn't mention that he was going to be doing a little sniffing of his own, for Mystique or Magneto. No need to get the kids worked up over people who, even if they had been here, were now long gone.

With one last look, and a glance to Roberto for moral support, Rahne morphed into the form of a wolf and began sniffing about. In this form her nose was more sensitive than even Logan's and it didn't take her long to find something. Standing in the parking lot, she shifted back to her human form.

"Here." She directed, pointing down. "There is a small amount of blood and something…it smells kind of sharp and metallic."

Logan moved closer, sniffing himself, while the others held back out of the way.

"Yea, I smell it. Smells like…an anesthetic. This is the place alright. Whoever they are, they must have jumped her as she was leaving. Probably injected her with the anesthetic to keep her quiet."

"It's too bad Lois isn't here." Jubilee offered up her opinion. "She might be able to use her abilities to see what happened."

"Maybe she still can." Logan said thoughtfully. Kneeling down over the tiny blood smears, he popped a single claw, using it to dig out some of the blacktop with the blood on it. "Anyone got a tissue?"

No one did and Roberto ended up running back to the van to get one from the courtesy pack in the glove box.

That done, they returned to the van.

It was a far more subdued group that returned to the mansion that evening. This was one first contact mission that hadn't turned out in any way, shape or form like they had hoped.

****(Page break)

Corbin and his team entered the austere conference room in the second of Lionel's private floors in Luthor Tower in Metropolis, to find Lucien and his team already there. It took an honest effort for Johnny to keep an impassive face, not showing his disdain for the one trick freaks.

Lucien Brey, Angela Bower, Simon Tremain and Rupert Renauld were all mutants.

They weren't the only genetic misfires working for Luthor, not even the only ones directly involved with this project. Lady Heather, Lionel's current consort and nocturnal playmate, was a mutant and sometimes worked with Lucien's team. There was also Pierce and his little clockwork creatures locked away downstairs in the basement. Simon's gift for controlling computerized and electronic devices often saw him utilizing Pierce's creations…and often put him at odds with Corbin's own computer expert, Oscar, who didn't consider the mutant to be a real hacker but a moron playing with remote controlled children's toys. Simon's mutant ability didn't affect software, only hardware. This meant he could cause electronic devices to do what he wanted, as long as he concentrated on them, but didn't give him the ability to hack programs or view files.

There was also the final member of Brey's group, if 'IT' could truly be considered a part of the team or even a mutant, that being the beast Chimera, the fruit of Luthor Corps experiments in genetic manipulation. Rupert, the master of puppets, served as its keeper and if he ever let go of its leash, the Chimera would kill indiscriminately.

Corbin hated the thing, it was ugly and unnatural.

He also wasn't very fond of Lucien and the others, considering their little 'gifts' to be a crutch. Real professionals relied on skill, experience and planning, not genetic mistakes of dubious reliability.

Johnny and Kane took seats at the large table, opposite Lucien and the others. Paolo diverted his course to the small wet bar along the wall. Laila, however, made her way down the length of the room to where Angela was standing looking out the window.

Stepping close to say 'Hi', she briefly touched her hand to the small of the blonde woman's back.

Near as Corbin could tell, Angela was a militant lesbian and man hater. She was also very easy on the eyes and it hadn't taken long for the members of his team to notice. Paolo had been shot down with a violence that still brought a small smile to Johnny's face when he thought about it. Laila on the other hand, who didn't let little things like gender get in the way of a little fun, had been more successful and before long the two were spending many of their off hours together.

While Corbin would have shut Paolo down if Angela hadn't, he allowed Laila to continue. The reasons were simple; first, he trusted Laila not to do something stupid in the name of hormones. Second, her relationship with the mutant would, he hoped, give him some insight to the workings of Lucien's team, the competition.

Paolo, he felt certain, would have spouted off all their own secrets in a fit of bragging. He was, to put it simply, the kind of reckless idiot who found himself behind bars because he was trying to impress some floozy in a bar with tales of his exploits.

If Angela was feminine fury wrapped in leather, Lucien was a soulless mirror in a lack luster suit. Corbin had met his type many times before, usually going by the name of Smith or Johnson and drawing their pay from some secret government slush fund. Part of the animosity he felt towards Lucien was, admittedly, due to past experiences with the man's faceless cousins. People who hired you, then hung you out to dry for little to no reason. In short, not to be trusted.

"Hello Mr. Corbin." Lucien addressed him with false pleasantry. "I understand you had some difficulty with your last pick up."

He was trying, like always, to draw Johnny into conversation. Using the cover of banal small talk to fish for information. Par for the course for his kind and totally expected.

"Nothing we weren't prepared for Lucien." Corbin responded with his own false smile.

Lucien opened his mouth to say more but was interrupted by the opening of the door at the other end of the room, the one that led to Lionel's office.

Entering Luthor quickly made his way to the head of the table, Lady Heather and a man Corbin had never seen before following like sharks in his wake.

"Good evening Gentleman, Ladies." He greeted, throwing his most charming smile towards Laila and Angela at the opposite end. "Mr. Corbin, I really must congratulate you and your team. Miss Hall has what promises to be a potentially powerful gift, yet you…" Here he nodded towards the group as a whole. "…managed to capture and contain her with no undue fuss. I am happy to see that you are well worth the exuberant fees I am paying you. Again, thank you."

"Your welcome Mr. Luthor." Johnny returned with a small nod of acceptance and respect.

"Now, to the business at hand. We are moving on to the next phase of the operation, Prometheus. Our friend, Dr. Hansen, has informed me that with the delivery of Miss Hall, the Nevada site is filled to capacity. I have already arranged for larger accommodations but it will take some time to move to the new facility. In the meantime all collections will have to be scaled back in allowance of space. My people tell me it will be _at least_ three weeks before we may resume. So, consider this a vacation, relax and enjoy your time off. Don't worry about the money, I have arranged for a generous retainer fee to be paid. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other business that requires my attention. As they say; 'There is no rest for the wicked'."

Giving the room an amused smile, Lionel walked back out through the same door he arrived from. Lady Heather and the still unidentified man followed.

Once they had returned to the privacy of his office, Lionel turned to the other man.

"Mr. Williamson, I trust you have good news for me?"

"Yes Mr. Luthor, we have located Ms. Darkhome."

"Mystique?" Lionel inquired, his interest peaked. "This is good news."

The now named Mr. Williamson withdrew an encrypted memory stick from the inside pocket of his jacket, briefly exposing the presence of a rather large firearm ridding under his left arm. Reaching across the desk, he handed it to his anxious employer.

Opening the small drawer in his desk, Lionel inserted the stick into the appropriate port. The lowering monitor showed three pictures placed side by side. The first was the blue skinned mutant who called herself Mystique. The second was of a tall, severe woman in a dark skirt suit. The last was a teenage girl with, strangely enough, colored swirls in her hair.

"Ms. Darkhome has returned to Bayville where she has assumed the identity of a teenage girl, a student at the same high school she previously administrated."

"Really." Lionel responded absently, his curiosity peeked. "I wonder why?"

Author's notes:

A few people have pointed out that another story contains what is clearly a part of my own. While I would have appreciated a mention, all I can say is that neither he nor I are receiving money for this. What's more, since this is fan fiction it is by its very nature an act of plagiarism. Again, I would appreciate a mention, but in the meantime I will just be flattered that they apparently liked part of my story enough to borrow it.

If anyone reading my stories feels I went left when I should have gone right, feel free to write your own continuation. Just remember, a mention would be nice.

Regarding Forge and OOC; I'm trying to base his character off of what I remember of the seventies (Look, I'm dating myself. Boy am I glad I was too young to wear bell bottoms.) and what was depicted in the cartoon. I'm afraid the battle scarred veteran of Vietnam just doesn't fit the Evolution universe.

I've made a few other changes to. For one, with Kryptonite being rare (in the Donner film there was only one known sample found in Africa) there won't be a monster of the week in Smallville. I still have plans for the green rock and its effects on mutant DNA.

The glasses; I read the idea of using leaded glass to control Clark's X-ray vision in another fan fic. I wish I could remember which one so I could give credit. I think it was a cross over with the Returns movie…but I'm not sure. If anyone recognizes it, fill me in and I'll bring it up with my next chapter.


	15. Chapter 15 Seeds of Defeat

Chapter 14: Seeds of Defeat

After Forge left, Clark entertained himself by exploring the lower level of the mansion. He walked its stainless steel corridors, entering the rooms that would open to him and using the rest to practice his new vision. He couldn't see all of it and some of what he could see didn't make sense to the small town farm boy.

The rooms he could enter were pretty easy to figure out. There were the by now painfully familiar medical facilities, a fabrication shop where Forge was busy cutting glass, the once visited locker room and its female counterpart, and of course, the Danger Room. There was also a rather elaborate gym, some of the equipment he didn't recognize, and another computer lab. Along with these he found unused dorm rooms, enough to house everyone in the mansion if necessary, store rooms, a kitchen. The makings of a complete bomb shelter all safely hidden under the inconspicuous house above.

Then there were the rooms he couldn't enter freely, but he could see within.

The first of these was the control tower above the Danger Room. It, like the elevator that brought him down here, required a thumb print to access.

There was an underground hanger, complete with two aircraft that looked like they came straight from the military; some sort of stealth jet and a helicopter that if he was seeing correctly was made entirely of non ferrous materials; plastics, polymers and ceramics. Clark was beginning to get the impression that teaching mutants how to use their gifts wasn't the only thing the Professor was doing.

The last of these rooms that he could see into but not enter, made absolutely no sense to him at all. It was a giant sphere, its walls made up of complex circuitry. There was a platform extending into the center like a dock in a lake with some sort of computer station at its end. Clark had no clue what it was for, but he doubted that Xavier had built it to listen to himself sing.

Last but not least, there was a section that he could not only not enter, but he couldn't see into it either. It was made up of either one large room, or a series of smaller rooms that were all bunched together and sheathed in one of the few materials Forge had determined Clark couldn't see through, adamantium. Given that it was protected by a metal that Forge claimed was nigh indestructible, along with the three stage lock Clark found on the door (there was a retinal scanner, a slot for an electronic key card, and a numerical pad for entering a combination or pass code), he felt safe in guessing that this was some form of vault.

Having exhausted the entertainment potential of his surroundings, Clark decided to visit the computer lab to check his e-mail.

****(Page break)

The glasses that Forge had made for Clark in hand, Professor Xavier exited the elevator and entered the secret sublevel beneath his ancestral home. His telepathic senses let him know that Clark wasn't in the med bay, but the computer lab. Adjusting his course, Xavier rolled his motorized chair through the basement halls to the door of the computer lab, the door opening automatically as he drew near.

"Clark." He greeted, taking the Kent boy by surprise as he had been focused on the computer screen before him. "These are for you." That said, Xavier lay a folded pair of glasses on the desk to Clark's right.

Picking them up, Clark asked; "What are these for Professor? I mean, my eyesight is fine."

"These glasses aren't meant to help you see Clark, quite the opposite in fact. The lenses are made from leaded glass."

Picking them up to experimentally look through them, the thick lenses cast shadows across Clark's face.

"According to Forge, these glasses won't stop your new vision capabilities, but they should inhibit them. At least enough to prevent any _unintentional_ accidents."

Placing them upon his face Clark focused on the door. He was still able to see into the hall beyond but this time it was much harder to do and there was a great deal of distortion, similar to what it was like looking about under cloudy water. .

"Thanks Professor." Clark attempted to adjust the position of the glasses on his nose, the unfamiliar sensation bugging him. "I guess wearing these is better than spending the rest of the year hiding in the basement."

"Your welcome Clark."

Anything else the Professor might have said was interrupted by Ms. Monroe's voice coming over the com.

"Professor, Jean is on the phone."

"I'll be there momentarily Ororo." Charles responded to the air. Smiling, he told Clark; "I expect to see you at the dinner table tonight." Then left the room, making his way towards his study and the waiting phone.

****(Page break)

Clark didn't immediately follow the Professor out of the computer lab, but instead spent a while longer writing e-mail to his friends. Now he had his new glasses to tell them about and knowing that Chloe at least would insist on seeing them, he used a web cam he found in the lab to post his picture. That done, he hit the send button before logging off.

Deciding it was time to emerge from his self imposed exile, Clark was moving down the main hall towards the elevator when he caught a glimpse of Xavier and Scott turning down the short hall towards that mysterious round room. Curious, he stopped at the cross corridor and spying down its length he saw Scott standing outside the secure door. The Professor must have already gone inside, leaving the other boy to wait in the hall. Scott seemed anxious, nervous jitters passing up and down his lanky frame, as he watched the closed aperture like a hawk. Being so distracted Scott hadn't noticed him yet, so Clark decided to satisfy his curiosity. Sliding his new glasses far enough down his nose to peek over the frame, he focused on the room beyond the door. He watched as the Professor rolled his chair down that long walkway to the control console suspended in the center of the room. There the Professor took up a strange silver headset, placing the helmet like construct upon his head. No sooner had he done so, then the empty spaces in the room came to life with suspended holographic images. Intrigued, Clark watched as a lit up representation of the continental United States appeared, then narrowed in on what he knew to be Pennsylvania. To the side appeared the image of a teenage girl with reddish blonde hair, along with vital statistics like you would find in a government file.

Clark was still focused on the happenings in the room beyond when Scott finally noticed him.

"Hey Clark." The older boy greeted him with a smirk. "Nice glasses." He teased, tapping the side of his own ruby red shades.

"Oh, thanks." Clark responded, self consciously pushing the frames back up the ridge of his nose till they rested once again in their proper place. "The Professor thinks they'll help me with my a…vision."

Seeing the obvious question regarding his new ability arising on the other's face, and not wanting to try and explain it yet, Clark took a stab at changing the subject.

"What's the Professor doing in their anyway?" He asked, honestly hoping he would get an answer.

Reminded again of his earlier anxiety Scott's interest in Clark's new accessory was easily derailed, his thoughts turning again to what Xavier had relayed to him from Jean.

"That's Cerebro."

"Cerebro?" Clark parroted back, his tongue wrestling with the unfamiliar word.

"Yeah, it's a computer…amplification…thingy. I don't know how to describe it but it allows the Professor to use his telepathy to search anyplace in America, maybe even the whole world. That's how he found all of us. Mutants kind of stand out in a crowd, especially when we use our powers for the first time."

Turning back to look at Clark, he added; "That's how he found you too. He was searching for Magneto, don't ask, when he stumbled across you in Kansas."

Clark had wondered how Xavier found him and now he knew.

"Is that what he's doing now? Did it find another mutant?"

A troubled frown came over Scott's face as he considered Clark's question.

"Yeah, yesterday it detected a girl in Pennsylvania. The Professor sent Jean and the others to meet her. You know, invite her to join us here at the institute, but something went wrong. Someone kidnapped her before they arrived."

Clark quickly made the connection between what Scott was telling him and what he had seen beyond the door.

"Is that what he's doing now, using this Cerebro to look for her?"

"Yeah, hopefully." Scott gave out a resigned sigh. "I guess there's nothing we can do standing out here." Patting Clark on the shoulder, he gave him a somewhat malicious grin. "What say we head upstairs and introduce everybody to your new look?"

Clark grimaced, if there was one thing about wearing glasses he really wasn't looking forward to it was the inevitable 'four eyes' jokes.

Scott's grin took on a sympathetic edge, he understood exactly what Clark was feeling.

"Relax Clark," He tried to reassure. "it won't be that bad. Come on, Storm should have dinner ready soon."

At the reminder of the beautiful dark skinned woman, an intense blush spread over Clark's features. One of shameful embarrassment mixed with a heady dose of teenage lust. Facing her again was something he definitely wasn't looking forward to.

Exiting the elevator, the first person they bumped into was Rogue. The goth girl's habitual scowl slid off her face when she bumped into them, or more accurately, into Scott.

"Hey Scott, uh…Clark."

Seeing the faint blush slowly spreading across Rogue's face, Clark had to suppress the urge to chuckle. She only had eyes for Scott, hadn't even noticed Clark's new eyewear.

"Hi Rogue." Scott responded. "We were just going to show everyone Clark's new glasses. So…what do you think?"

"…Glasses?" She blinked in confusion, then did a double take as she finally noticed. "Oh…yea, they look good Clark." She practically stuttered, trying to cover her slip.

"Thanks Rogue." Clark replied. He couldn't believe this, first Scott and Jean, and now Rogue, it was like a teenage soap opera. All they needed was for Kurt to turn out to be someone's long lost son, and for Jean to be possessed by the devil. You couldn't make this stuff up if you tried.

It was at that point that Scott spotted Kurt and Evan coming out of the kitchen.

"Hey guys!" He called out to get their attention. Hardly giving her a glance, he said; "Catch you later Rogue." Then dragging Clark by his arm, he headed down the hall to show the others.

"See ya!" Clark yelled back to the forgotten girl, a wave of sympathy swelling up within him for her unrequited interest, before he was overwhelmed by a wave of boyish laughter and the obligatory 'four-eyed' jokes.

That evening at dinner Clark was there but Xavier wasn't, neither were Logan, Jean, Rahne or Roberto. Storm was the only adult at the table and Scott and the others noticed that she seemed unusually pensive. Clark didn't notice as he was making a conscious effort not to look in her direction.

Most of the other students had made little comment about Clark's glasses, Lois just made a sarcastic quip about how now he at least looked intelligent. Clark was just glad that when the inevitable questions arose about his new ability, Storm had interrupted, sending everyone off to do their homework. She even went so far as to stare Clark down, refusing to be embarrassed by what had happened. Clark wasn't nearly so stubborn and quickly fled her sight.

****(Page break)

It was late when Logan and his group returned, late enough that Jean and the others stayed home from school the next day. Not Clark, armed with his new glasses he had to go to work. His coworkers gave him some light hearted ribbings about them, teasing that maybe now he wouldn't be throwing anymore stacks into closed doors and funny enough, Clark figured that in a way they were right. The real ribbings came at school from, who else, Duncan.

It was lunch time and so far the day had passed surprisingly pleasantly. The glasses kept Clark from suffering anymore uncomfortable episodes and while they had drawn some mocking comments, it had all been just good natured teasing. It left him with a strange sense of belonging. That all changed when he left the table behind the school, just outside the cafeteria, to dump his trash in the waiting receptacle.

Duncan was in a foul mood. This was the second day in a row that his girlfriend Jean had abandoned him to take care of her geek institute crap. To make it worse, Brandi wasn't there either so he couldn't even take advantage of the opportunity to have a little harmless fun while Jean wasn't there to see. Then he saw Clark and heard opportunity knocking. Flanked by two linemen from the team, he approached the unwanted freshman to dole out some much deserved punishment.

"Hey farm boy, nice specs. The nerd look really suits you."

Turning about with an annoyed sigh, Clark found Duncan and his stooges standing in a unified front in their bright red letterman jackets. Mathews was even holding a football in his hands, as if waiting to throw a winning pass.

"Oh…Wow Duncan!" He threw back, voice filled with faked wonder. "These glasses really work! You were always sort of just an ugly blur before, I'm sad to say I can really see you clearly now." Followed by an embellished shudder.

The look on Duncan's face grew ugly (pun intended). "Funny nerd boy. Maybe the boys and I should take you out on the field and teach you how to play hard ball."

His two bully boys did their best to look intimidating. Something they had a lot of practice at.

Clark couldn't help it. After taking so much crap from Whitney and the other jocks back home, he just snapped.

"You don't want to do that Duncan." He warned, his voice flat.

'This is more like it.' Duncan thought, quickly warming to the idea of pounding some geek flesh while Jean wasn't around to interfere. "Why not runt? You think you can take us on?"

"Oh, I'll do worse than that." Clark responded with a mocking half smile. Then too quick for Duncan to react, he snatched the ball from the quarterback's hands and with a quick turn, rifled it across the grounds more than forty yards to pass cleanly through the metal flap of a distant trash can. "I'll try out for the team." He said, his back to the glowering boy, eyes still on his target. "What do ya think Dunc? You wouldn't mind being second string, for the good of the team and all that."

That did it, no one dised Duncan Mathews. Not wasting a moment's thought for all of the witnesses seated at the surrounding tables, Duncan let fly a right hook to the back of Clark's unsuspecting skull.

Crack! The sound of bone hitting something much harder than bone echoed across the school grounds. Followed by the quarterback's cry of surprised pain.

Cradling his right hand against his chest, Duncan was just letting loose with a scorching epitaph on Clark's parentage when the loud voice of authority resounded across the scene.

"What is going on here?"

Principal Kelly had arrived.

Finally remembering the presence of the watching students, witnesses that he just knew would love to see him get in trouble, Mathews did his best to suck up the pain.

"Nothing Principal Kelly. We were just complimenting Kent here on his glasses. That's all."

"Is that so." Kelly responded, voice tight with disbelief. Facing Clark, he said; "Shouldn't you be getting to class Mr. Kent?"

Turning back to Duncan, he took the grimacing boy by the right wrist, holding his aching hand up for inspection. "Your hand appears to be swelling up Mr. Mathews. A bee sting perhaps? Take him to the School Nurse's office." He instructed the quarterback's teammates. As the three jocks made good their escape, Principal Kelly turned to watch as Clark rejoined several of the other students from Xavier's Institute. As Kelly watched them gather their books and leave, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened.

****(Page break)

Charles studied the small piece of road tar nestled in the folds of tissue paper upon his desk. "I wonder if it was the abduction that triggered Miss Hall's mutant gift?" He mused, heart filled with regret that he hadn't acted sooner. As soon as he received the report from Jean, she called while they were still in Renovo, he retreated to Cerebro and spent most of the night attempting to find the missing girl. To his surprise and dismay, he couldn't. There were only two ways he knew of that made that possible; if she were dead or somehow shielded like Magneto. He prayed it wasn't the former even as he worried about the possibility of the later.

Xavier was in his study at the mansion, Jean, Logan and Storm seated across the desk from him. Jean and Logan had only just returned from Pennsylvania, giving their report as soon as they entered the mansion.

"The police have no clue who took her?" He directed his question to Jean, whom he knew would have used her telepathy to learn all that she could under the circumstances.

"No Professor." She answered. "They hadn't even determined for sure where the assault took place, only that she was last seen at the local library. It was Rahne who found the traces of blood in the parking lot. Jubilee thought maybe Lois could learn more. That's why we brought this fragment with her blood on it."

Considering the possibility he turned to Ororo, she was the one who had worked the most with Miss Lane. "Do you think Lois could learn anything from this?" He asked, gesturing towards the fragment.

"Yes Charles." She answered, somewhat reluctantly. "If the attack did indeed take place in the location this fragment was taken from, Lois should be able to see it. I am not, however, comfortable with exposing her to this kind of violence again. She is only a teenager."

"I understand and share your reluctance Storm, but so is Miss Hall and I'm sure Lois would want to help if she can. You were the one who told me about her reaction to the impressions left on that wallet."

Storm nodded, unable to argue with him on that. Lois' response had been almost violent when confronted by the pain and fear she had sensed. "If she is going to try, we should do this quickly before the impressions fade."

"Agreed."

****(Page break)

Lois and Jubilee rode their Vespa scooters into the garage at the mansion. They were in the process of removing their helmets when Scott drove in, Kurt and Kitty riding along. School bags in hand, the five of them made their way towards the door into the main building but it swung open before they could reach it, Logan stepping out to meet them.

"Lois, Ororo and the Professor need you in the study. It's important so you best hurry."Exchanging a worried glance with Jubilee, her partner in crime, Lois hesitated.

"Okay. Uh, Logan…what's up? Am I in trouble or something?"

Logan stopped Scott and the others from passing into the house with a hand against the tall boy's chest. Giving them a look that made it clear he wanted them to wait, he answered Lois.

"No chatterbox, you're not in trouble. They need your special talents, that's all."

"Really." She said, the glow of excitement growing in her eyes. Lois loved a mystery and if the Professor was seeking her help then more than likely he had a good one in the offering. "Then I better not keep them waiting. Talk to you later Jube."

That said, she slipped past Logan disappearing into the house.

One task down, Logan turned his attention to Scott and the other students.

"You lot head down to the Danger Room, Chuck has a new sim and you get the pleasure of being the first to try it out. Ain't that great?"

"Yea, wonderful." Kitty whispered to Jubilee.

Logan's ears were almost as sharp as his nose and he had no problem catching her sarcastic aside.

"Relax half-pint, this one should be a cake walk. Now go suit up."

With some trepidation the students circled around the burly little fire plug, they knew what his idea of a 'cake walk' was. All but Scott, who was once again stopped by Logan's hand on his chest.

"Is there something else?" The teenager asked, one eyebrow raised inquiringly.

"Yea, Chuck wants you to take Clark with you on this one. He figures the farm boy needs to learn to play with the group."

Scott's brow scrunched up in a mixture of dismay, frustration and all around confusion.

"Don't you think that with all of the new students we might be getting a little too big? It's kind of hard to pass unnoticed when your packing a small army." After the way his classmates reacted to Lance's announcement, Scott was no longer so anxious for the world to find out about them and what they could do.

"You're not thinking big picture kid. It's a big world with a lot of ugly, more than a single team can handle." Logan tried to explain. "Xavier is looking to field several teams capable of dealing with several problems at once. Don't make the mistake of thinking that Mystique's little pack of ragamuffins are the only threat out there. Not even Magneto is. There is a lot more Chuck is keeping an eye on. Now he has both you and red slotted to lead your own teams and he's got his eye on a couple of others as well." Logan had a far away look on his face, his eyes no longer really seeing Scott as he muttered to himself. "I don't care what Ororo thinks, war is coming. I can feel it."

Scott wasn't sure what to say and the older man's words made him more than a little uncomfortable. He almost dismissed them, used to Logan's tendency to see violent threats around every corner, but a little voice in the back of his head was whispering that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

"Okay Logan, I'll get Clark and meet you in the Danger Room."

****(Page break)

Lois entered Xavier's study without knocking. After all, they were already expecting her and it wasn't like anyone could actually surprise the Professor. She was surprised to find not only Storm, but Jean, Rahne and Roberto as well. All intently looking at her.

"Okay…" She said in a low voice. "It's not my birthday and no one is yelling 'surprise', so what gives?"

"Ah, Lois." Xavier greeted her, waving her closer to his desk. Lois saw what looked like a small black stone, or maybe part of one of Kitty's brownies, sitting on his desk on a piece of tissue paper. "We have a problem and we are hoping that your unique talents might prove helpful."

"Sure Professor, just tell me what you need."

Gesturing to the other students, he told her; "Yesterday morning Jean, Rahne and Roberto, along with Jubilee, accompanied Mr. Logan to Pennsylvania to invite a prospective student to join us here at the institute, but things didn't work out as we hoped. I'll let Jean explain."

Now the center of attention, Jean unconsciously sat up straighter. While Rahne and Roberto leaned closer in a reflexive show of support.

"Yesterday morning we arrived in Renovo, that's the girl's hometown, only to discover that she is missing and the police are investigating it as a kidnapping." Jean explained to her.

"So this little…whatever…" Lois pointed to the object resting on the desk. "it belonged to her?"

Unexpectedly, it was Roberto who answered.

"It's from the parking lot. Rahne found blood on it."

"We were hoping you could see what happened." Jean added.

Hand held over the fragment of pavement, Lois said; "Only one way to find out." Then before her fear of what she might find could dissuade her, she seized it from its paper bed.

Lois was struck by overwhelming terror, followed by images so clear and vibrant she couldn't have seen it better if she had been there. She saw a teenage girl, slender with reddish blonde hair wearing a yellow skirt and red windbreaker struggling with a large man in black who had grabbed her from behind. Lois watched as the girl was replaced with a translucent blue figure, temporarily winning her freedom, only to have it snatched away again when a twenty something brunette burst from the side door of a white van. She heard a man giving orders and watched as the woman jabbed the girl in the back with a metal tube. The girl fell, the blue figure disappearing and the orders giving man and his crew loaded her into the van. Lois watched in helpless frustration as the van pulled away.

Blinking away the vision, Lois found Storm's arms wrapped around her. The girl's fear had been so fresh, so intense that it left her reeling and weak. Only the older woman's embrace kept her from collapsing to the floor.

"Lois…" Storm was speaking directly into her ear. "Lois, wake up!"

"I'm…uh…I'm fine." Lois slurred. "That was…it was really intense. I need a drink."

Intentionally misunderstanding, Storm asked Jean to pour Lois some water from a pitcher resting on a side table.

By the time Jean pressed the glass into her hands, Lois had recovered her senses enough to know better than to tell them she meant alcohol.

"Lois, are you okay?" Storm asked, hovering over her in concern.

"Yeah, I'm cool." Lois stepped away, regaining her feet. "That was…it wasn't as bad as that wallet…but it was fresher, more intense. Just give me a second."

After taking several deep breaths, and a little more water, Lois was back under control.

"The cops are right Professor, she was kidnapped. There was a big man named Kane, a woman named Laila, and another named Paolo who I didn't see. I think this Paolo was the driver. I didn't get the leader's name or any last names…sorry."

"That is quite alright Lois." Xavier addressed her. "You've done very well. Thanks to you we now know far more than we did before, and with their names and your memory of their faces, we may yet track them down. Thank you."

"My pleasure…" Lois took a moment to chew nervously on her lower lip, before adding; "Professor, they…the kidnappers knew she was a mutant. I felt their surprise when she 'erupted', but they were ready for it. I think…I think that's why they took her."

Xavier shared looks with everyone in the room. They were all in agreement that this was not a good thing.

****(Page break)

Scott found Clark in the kitchen raiding the fridge.

"Hey Clark."

"Hi Scott."

"Look, Logan wants us down in the Danger Room for a training exercise."

Clark couldn't contain a competitive smile. "The dark tower again?"

Scott pushed away the irritation he felt at the reminder that everyone thought Clark's team had bested his in the Mordor sim. "No, he said this is a new one. So, you coming or what?"

"Sure." Clark closed the refrigerator door, turning to follow his fearless leader to battle.

Clark and Scott entered the locker room beneath the Mansion to find Kurt making final adjustments to his ninja gear.

Clark was crossing the room to retrieve a generic sweat suit from a cupboard, when with a 'bamphf', Kurt appeared in front of him, his three fingered hands raised in a warding gesture.

"Not there my friend, look."

Following the smaller boy's pointing finger, Clark found one of the regular lockers with his name on it. Opening it, he found a black and red outfit inside.

"Cool," Kurt had climbed up on a bench to peek over his shoulder. "the Profezzor haz given you your own uniform. Come on, I can't wait to zee what it looks like."

"Yea Clark." In spite of his fears regarding the growing size of their group, Scott felt strangely proud to welcome a new member to the team. "Let's see it."

Clark studied his new outfit with mixed feelings. On the one hand he was warmed and gratified by this sign of acceptance, on the other he kind of found the whole dressing up thing to be a bit juvenile.

After several minutes of puzzling through the workings of the strange outfit, and some good natured ribbing from Scott and Kurt, Clark was ready to go. They found an impatient Kitty and Jubilee waiting for them in the hall. It seemed Kurt had already announced to them that Clark had received his official uniform as an X-men.

"Ooh, Clark. Looking hot!" Kitty teased. Though the pleased look in her eyes made it clear she was also expressing her honest opinion. Obviously Jubilee was in full agreement.

At its base, Clark's uniform was the same non reflective black outfit worn by Jubilee and the other new students. The pants were made from a sturdy, tear resistant material that was tailored to hug his form tightly so it wouldn't bunch at the hips or joints. Further securing the breeches was a yellow utility belt, its red, black and yellow buckle forming Xavier's 'X' symbol. After that, it deviated from the norm. Instead of the jacket with its long sleeves and armored 'X' symbol shoulder plates that the others wore, Clark's uniform had a sleeveless double breasted vest made of a thicker, heavier material that had a dark blue metallic sheen when the light hit it just right. It was tailored to conform closely to his torso in an effort to reduce restriction. The knee high boots and gloves were made from reinforced red leather that would have been ideal for dealing with the brush and barbed wire back on the farm. All in all, Clark felt like a post apocalyptic cowboy. All he needed was the metal Stetson. The glasses totally looked out of place.

"Come on, Logan's waiting and trust me patience is not one of his virtues." Scott had to struggle to contain his grin at Clark's embarrassment over the girl's ogling.

Making their way to the Danger Room, the girls maneuvered to walk behind Clark so they could admire his tightly wrapped back side, tapered waist and broad shoulders. Their whispered comments might have been good for the ego, but were really doing a number on Clark's nerves.

Once they passed through the reinforced door to the Danger Room, Logan's chuckle echoing through the speakers from the control booth made it clear that sensitivity and tact were also not numbered among his virtues.

"Nice outfit Kent. It looks like you mugged John Travolta." At Clark's scowl, he hastened to add; "Now don't get your panties in a wad, Chuck told Forge to make it as resilient as your thick hide. The vest is Kevlar reinforced with steel thread, which is what gives it that metallic sheen. Your arms were left bare because, let's face it, any sleeves would have quickly come to resemble a Tina Turner video. The only reason he left you the gloves was to keep you from leaving fingerprints. Personally, I recommended we just give you a Speedo and call it good. Even Storm seemed to think that would be only fair. Chuck vetoed it on the grounds that it might be too distracting for the ladies. Eyes front Kitty, this ain't Chip n' Dales."

Clark turned as red as his boots. It was all Scott could do not to laugh at his straight laced associates obvious discomfort. As for Kurt, he was on his knees laughing so hard his sides hurt.

"All right, that's enough elf. We're wasting daylight."

A holographic blueprint of a massive building appeared, free floating in the center of the domed chamber.

"This is your stereotypical high security building, used by governments and corrupt corporations the world over."

The image was that of a two tiered structure built on top of a hill. The lower tier was made up of a wall with a ring of guard towers that circled the hill. Along with the wall, on the one side there was a multi level parking complex. The crown of the hill was occupied by the upper tier, an octagonal shaped building with a large atrium at its heart. The circular building was connected to the parking complex by an elevated breezeway. On the opposite side stood paired towers like those on the Tokyo Metropolitan Building. Atop one was a helicopter landing pad, the other a cluster of antenna and satellite dishes.

"All right people, the goal here is quiet infiltration. Located in this tower…" Here a bright red barrel shape appeared high in the tower beneath the helicopter pad. "is a super computer with a database of info we don't want the owners of this building to have. Your job is to destroy it beyond all ability to recover. I'll leave it to you to figure out how. Now just to complicate things, the computer has a direct satellite uplink that will automatically up load its contents to said satellite if the mainframe is tampered with in any way. So first you will have to sever that link here, in the top of the other tower. Again, handle it however you like. After that, all you have to do is get out of the building alive. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, before you start thinking this is too easy, Chuck wants you to do it without any casualties. In fact, you will be docked points for injuring any of the buildings occupants. Have fun."

Scott tried to study the blueprints, looking for a clear passage to the towers, but after only a minute it winked out the simulated reality of a nighttime wood replacing it. The well lit building, their target, clearly visible on the hill above.

****(Page break)

Deep under Metropolis, in one of the levels hidden beneath Luthor Tower, Lionel Luthor entered Donald Pierce's domain. This part of the level was a clean room, completely cut off from the rest of the compound with the only access being through an air lock door to keep out dust. The entire room was also well grounded to control static electricity. The delicate electronics that Pierce worked with in here could easily be destroyed by even a small speck or spark. There was the faint scent of ozone in the air and the barely audible hum of electrical equipment, interspersed with sharp zaps from the soldering iron in the tall man's hand. The room was a cross between a hospital surgery and Monster Garage.

Luthor had to look up as Donald Pierce was well over six feet tall with a lean and muscular build that conspired to make him seem even taller. His thick blonde hair was slightly long with just a hint of curl, like someone you would see on the front of a romance novel. Lionel wondered if he had always been that tall, or if vanity had led him to make…improvements.

Lionel waited till the other man straightened up from his work before addressing him, occupying his time looking over the various tables with their tools and unfinished devices. When it came to robotics, Donald Pierce was centuries ahead of the competition.

Of course compared to genetics, these crude mechanical devices were mere child's play.

"You want something Luthor?" The tall man inquired absently. Pierce was too arrogant to see himself as anything less then Lionel's equal. Besides, his current spine was incapable of suffering the shivers.

"Oh, only that which we had agreed upon Donald. Dr. Hansen tells me that everything is ready for the move from Nevada, the question is are we going to be ready on Isla Barica. I am counting on your creations to ensure the security of our facilities."

"What, don't you trust your little friend Salazar to keep you safe?"

Lionel gave Pierce a small, depreciating smile.

"I trust General Salazar to be greedy. I trust that his ambitions will keep him loyal. I hope that with a little financial aid from me, he will be able to keep the government of Ecuador out of our way. What I do not trust him to be is competent. For that I am counting on you. Are you going to disappoint me Donald?"

The look Pierce gave him was totally flat, as emotionless as a machine.

"The first batch is finished and already packaged for shipping. If you want the rest ready on schedule, then I would advise you to leave me to my work Lionel."

Luthor's smile grew open, friendly and with a predatory edge. "Good. It is always a pleasure dealing with a true professional. I will leave you to your work."

Lionel was actually whistling as he made his way back to the elevator.

****(Page break)

Scott, Kitty, Kurt, Jubilee and Clark were crouched in the shadows of the only car located on the far end of the second floor of the parking complex that stood beside their target building. Thanks to Kurt's ability to teleport sneaking into the car park had been child's play. Getting across the breezeway with its security station and cameras, that was looking to be another story entirely. The windows were all tinted too dark for Kurt to see a landing point so teleporting in was out. They had stopped behind this car to observe and plan because Kurt assured them that here would be safe. Scott couldn't see any cameras that overlooked this part of the lot, but he still felt uneasy about remaining here in the open with only one lone car for cover. When he voiced his concerns, Kurt's response was an emphatic; "Trust me. This is a 69 Impala low rider with half moon hubcaps and deep purple paint. There is no way Forge would let something bad happen to a car like this, not even in a simulation. I mean, he spent twenty years in that bubble I found him in with nothing but a Mustang for company, and he actually washed it."

"Terrific." Kitty interrupted. "But how is that going to get us into the building? I can phase through walls but not empty space and we're going to stand out real good crossing that breezeway."

"Actually," Clark intruded into the conversation hesitantly. He had only done this sort of thing once with Kurt and Evan and while that time it had all felt like a game, Scott's presence and serious demeanor somehow left this time feeling like important business. "there is a large duct running across the top of the breezeway and above that security office. I bet Kitty could phase us in there from the next level."

Scott and Kitty were both trying to see the top of the breezeway hall, while Kurt was giving Clark a congratulatory pat on the back. Jubilee looked puzzled.

"How do you know that, Clark?" She asked in a whisper.

That drew everyone's attention back to Clark.

"It was in the blueprint Logan showed us." He explained, not sure why she was asking.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked. He had tried himself to find a way in while studying the holographic blueprint, but Logan hadn't left it up long enough for him to do more than pick out their mission's targets.

"Yes. It extends all the way through to the atrium, intersecting with a ring that circles the whole floor. There's one on every level, all linked to the environmental units located between the towers."

"You saw all of that?" Kurt asked, impressed.

"Sure, it was all in the blueprint."

"Wow!" Kitty exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly. "You must have like a photographic memory or something." Kitty was smart and her memory was good, but not that good.

"Do you remember everything you see?" Scott asked. Such a trait could be useful on missions.

"Pretty much." Clark answered a little nervously. After a lifetime of keeping secrets he still wasn't comfortable discussing his abilities openly, even ones he knew were exhibited by normal humans.

"Well then," Jubilee piped up. "let's take this parade upstairs and find that duct."

"Oh Clark, one thing." Scott stopped them before anyone could move. "When we're on a mission we use codenames, even in the Danger Room. I'm Cyclops," Here he patted the side of his visor. "Kurt is Night Crawler, Kitty is Shadow Cat and Jubilee is Dazzler."

"What about Clark?" Kitty asked. "He doesn't have a code name yet."

"How about buns of steel?" Jubilee suggested, turning Clark's cheeks red.

"I don't think Storm or the Professor would approve." Scott said with a smile. "How about we just call him CK for now?"

With everyone's nod and Clark's acceptance, they moved on.

Thanks to Kurt's gift for climbing and a length of cord from Scott's utility belt, ascending to the third floor of the parking garage took only a moments effort. It was actually harder to wend their way across to the space above the breezeway without being spotted by any security cameras. There weren't very many cars in the lot and none on the third floor. Once there, Kitty took a small pen light from her own utility belt then phased her arm and head into the wall. After a brief moment, she pulled back out.

"CK was right, there is a duct here. It will be a little tight but we should be able to crawl down it."

"Good." Scott responded. "CK, what lies beyond the security desk and under this duct?"

"Well, first there's another security room where all the cameras feed to, then a pair of restrooms that stand across the hall from the elevators. After that there's a break room and some offices with a conference room adjacent to the atrium."

"Perfect. We can drop down into an empty restroom and then make our way inward from there."

It took several uncomfortable minutes for them to crawl their way the necessary distance down the duct. Periodically Kitty would phase her face through the floor below to take a peek. Once she announced they were over the restroom and that it was indeed empty, she phased Kurt through the floor, followed by Jubilee, Scott, then Clark and finally herself.

Standing in front of a sink, looking in the mirror, Jubilee was disgustedly trying to brush the dirt and grime out of her hair.

"Did Forge have to include so much dust? Euw…I hope there were no spiders in that web."

"Tighten up people." Scott ordered. "We still have a long way to go."

Slipping out into the hall, they were pleased to discover that the building was as sparse on people as the parking garage had been on cars. At least Forge had been nice enough to program a small nightshift in the simulation. Kitty only had to phase them through a wall and into an empty office to avoid security guards on their rounds and the cameras that watched key points in the halls. Soon they were looking over a railing into the dimly lit atrium. After a minute of study, Scott signaled Kitty to phase them into the conference room to discuss their options.

"All right." He said, once they were all kneeling in a circle. "Night Crawler can port us to the other side of the atrium."

"No problem." Kurt affirmed.

"CK, you said there were environmental units between the towers?"

"Yeah, there is a short hall with an elevator for each tower on either side, but at the end lies the trunk line for the ducts. The heating units are in the basement, with air conditioning units on the second and fourth floor, and another on the roof. There is also a small stairwell with access from the basement all the way up to the roof. I'm afraid the towers themselves are only accessible by elevator."

"Really? I bet the fire marshal didn't sign off on that." Kitty threw in.

"Corrupt governments and evil corporations have a tendency to ignore little things like fire codes Shadow Cat." Scott couldn't help explaining. "We'll take the service stairs as high as they go. Maybe there's a way up from the roof, if not we'll just have to climb the elevator shafts."

"Elevator shafts…" Jubilee moaned in dismay. "Do you think Forge programmed in grease?"

They were soon across the atrium and peeking down the short hall on the other side when they ran afoul of the first serious obstacle since entering the building. At the far end of the hall, just above the service door, was a security camera that overlooked the entire area. There wasn't even enough space for Kurt to teleport into without being seen and with the elevator shafts on each side, Kitty couldn't phase them past unless one of the elevators happened to be on this floor. According to the indicator above the doors, one was on the third floor and the other on the fourth.

"Oh man." Kurt whined. "There is no way we can get by that unseen and I bet there is one on each floor."

"Piece of cake." Jubilee's voice was filled with enthusiasm. At last she was going to get to contribute more than just her bright personality to this endeavor. "I'll just use my fireworks to blind the camera while we run across."

"Yeah, right. There is no way the security goons will miss that."

"True." Kitty interrupted. "But they'll probably think it's just a malfunction. I bet they'll just notify the maintenance guys in the morning."

"Unless someone has a better idea, I say we go with Dazzler's." Scott waited for suggestions, but when none were forth coming he gave Jubilee the nod. "Everybody join hands with Shadow Cat, we need to phase through that door as quick as possible."

They prepared for a mad dash down the hall and with one last check to make sure there weren't any security patrols in the atrium, Jubilee filled the camera's eye with bright flashes of plasma.

"Go!" Scott ordered, leading the rush. They didn't even stop, Kitty phased them straight through the door.

The room beyond the door lacked all of the niceties of the rest of the building. The walls were unadorned concrete. The floor beneath their feet, and those of the levels above, were merely a metal grill work. The space was brightly lit by harsh flood lights mounted in the grill above. Most of the room was filled by the mammoth air conditioning unit pushed up against the outer wall. The rest was a haphazard jumble of conduit, pipes and metal duct work. Mounted on the wall to their left was a plain metal stair to the floor above. Another like it went down to the first floor and the basement.

"This looks easy enough." Without further adieu, Kurt teleported to the floor above. Looking down at them through the grillwork, he mocked them. "Come on guys. Like Logan said, we are burning daylight."

"Ku…Night Crawler! This isn't a game!"

"Lighten up dude." Kurt blew Scott off, disappearing to the next floor above.

Giggling, Kitty and Jubilee raced up the stairs after him. Scott looked to Clark who just shrugged. "At least there's little chance of anyone hearing us over all this machinery." Clark tried to point out.

"Yea, at least." Shaking his head in disgust, Scott chased after the rest of his team. Clark following close behind.

Soon they were all gathered on the fifth and final floor. The stairs here led to the roof top access door. They looked to Scott to decide what came next.

"If we are going to achieve both goals of destroying the computer and the satellite uplink, then we are going to have to split up into two teams." He told them.

"I'll take the computer." Kitty volunteered. "If I phase through its hard drive then no one will be able to read it anymore."

Jubilee sidled up next to her. "And I can use my fireworks to fry everything else."

"And I can take out the antennas." Scott tapped the side of his visor suggestively. "Sounds like a good plan. CK, you go with the girls. Night Crawler, you're with me."

Kurt threw Clark a look of envy for being the one who got to accompany two pretty girls instead of Scott.

****(Page break)

New York may be the city that never sleeps, but at three in the morning even Manhattan slows down. At least enough for two high end sports cars to wend their way in and out of traffic at speeds far in excess of what was legal, or safe.

Seated behind the wheel of the lead car with good cognac warm in his stomach and a beautiful blonde warming his side, Paolo had never felt more alive. Weaving back and forth between the slower moving cars on the road, he watched his frustrated opponent in the rear view mirror. Sliding through an intersection, cutting off oncoming traffic dangerously close, he couldn't help but laugh. This was what he lived for; the roar of engines, the squeal of tires and above all, the thrill of the race. Knowing that stick in the mud Corbin would disapprove only made it that much sweeter. With a light tap of the brake, a hard turn of the wheel and a stomp on the gas, Paolo sent his Ferrari California on a right turn through the next intersection. Looking in the rear view mirror he had to smirk. While the American made Corvette may have had what it takes to compete, the rich man's son behind the wheel certainly didn't. Money, he knew, could only go so far when matched against talent.

With his blonde companion's hand having completed its quest up the inside of his thigh Paolo was too distracted to notice the distinctive colors of a police car parked across the right hand side of the next intersection, only realizing it was there when he spotted a uniformed officer sending a strip of tire spikes rolling across the road. Too late to stop or turn to avoid the ugly little caltrops, Paolo could only wince at the sound of his tires being shredded, followed by that of aluminum rims on blacktop.

The race was over and to add insult to injury, looking in his mirror he saw the tail lights of the corvette headed in the opposite direction. For once, being better did not end in a win. Keeping his hands on the wheel as the police stormed both sides of the vehicle, he cursed that now he was going to have to spend part of his well deserved pay from Luthor on lawyers.

These Americans were all like Corbin, they didn't know how to have fun.

****(Page break)

Ascending the towers was proving deceptively easy. A quick inspection of the roof revealed a pair of service hatches, one for each elevator shaft. Using precise blasts from his visor, Scott had relieved each of its lock, providing access. Within, metal rungs were mounted in the walls, ascending all the way from the bottom of the shaft to the top.

"Is there grease?" Jubilee asked, her voice less than hopeful.

Reaching in, Kurt dragged one finger across a rung to pull it back with a smear across the tip of his yellow glove. "A little, but not too much." He told her, trying to sound encouraging.

Jubilee looked at her own pristine gloves as if for the last time.

"They'll wash Dazzler." Scott checked his watch, then looked up as if measuring the height of the tower. "How long do you think it will take us to climb this Night Crawler?"

Kurt glanced up the inside of the shaft, then back at his comrades. "For me, maybe three minutes. For you guys…fifteen, maybe twenty."

Scott gave him an arched brow, a silent comment on Kurt's lack of precision. To which the blue night elf just shrugged. Was it his fault he didn't know how fast his disadvantaged fellows could climb?

"CK." Scott turned to the other male member of the group, hoping that with his memory he would prove more accurate. "The room with the computer, does it have any outside windows?"

"Sure, it takes up most of a floor." Looking up, Clark searched over the inner face of the left hand tower. "There, the windows on the third floor down, that's it."

"Perfect." That he could work with. "Give us a three minute head start, then when your ready Dazzler can splash that window with fireworks to signal us."

"What if someone else sees it?" Kitty interrupted. "Won't that be the same as setting off an alarm?"

"I wouldn't worry about that." Scott answered with a tight grin. "Once I take out the antenna array, I'm sure every alarm in the place will be going off. It means we'll have to hurry afterwards but if we all meet on the helicopter pad, going up instead of down towards the security guards, then we should be able to leave before anyone can try to stop us. Night Crawler can teleport us from the roof, even if it takes more than one hop."

Looking up the tower, then to the far end of the roof overlooking the car park, Kurt said; "Yeah, I can do that." with confidence.

Kurt disappeared into the tower, but before following Scott turned to address Clark and the girls. "Remember guys, the Professor doesn't want any casualties."

"Relax Cyke, we're not Logan." Kitty gave a roll of her eyes. "We'll keep it under control."

With a nod and a grin, Scott entered the shaft.

"Cyclops needs to lighten up." Jubilee complained. "He is seriously sucking all of the fun out of this."

"Cyclops takes everything seriously." Kitty commiserated. "Even mutant ball."

While they waited to give Scott his three minutes, Clark tipped his glasses down his nose to surreptitiously keep an eye on the climbing duo. He was getting better at it with practice, but he still found it hard to focus through too many obstacles. Looking up at the towers themselves was just a confusing mess. It was going to take a lot of work to reach the point were he could focus in on whatever he wanted. Except for girl's clothes, he shuddered reflexively, that came all too easy. It was more temptation than any guy should have to face.

"Time's up." Kitty announced, her off hand holding the cuff of her glove away from the face of her watch. "Ladies first." Without giving Clark any time to argue, she slipped past him and into the shaft.

"You heard her, clear the way." Jubilee pushed Clark to the side and followed.

Shaking his head, Clark paused to shut the hatch behind them before following up the ladder.

****(Page break)

The ladder rungs ended at another hatch, which when opened passed Scott and Kurt into a small service room. Little more than a walk through closet really. Sliding up to the door Kurt placed one furry ear against it, listening for noise. Pulling back far enough to give the waiting Scott a shake of his head no, he reached for the door handle and gave it a careful jiggle. It was locked.

"Is locked." He whispered. It wasn't necessary, Scott had witnessed the aborted attempt.

"I guess I'll have to cut our way through it." Scott said as he maneuvered around the smaller boy.

"Won't that set off the alarm?" Kurt sounded a little alarmed himself. "If Kitty and the others aren't in position…"

"_Night Crawler_…" Scott interrupted, placing an emphasis on the code name as a small reprimand for Kurt's slip. "relax, I don't think the door has an alarm. At least I'm not seeing any signs of one; no wires, power source or sensors."

Kneeling before the door, he directed a tightly focused eye beam into the space where the door met the strike plate. The door had been designed to prevent someone from sliding a hack saw blade in between for this very purpose, but Scott's laser vision went through both the bolt and its defenses like a hot knife through warm butter. Opening the door revealed that it was also nearly as messy. The opposite side displayed clear signs of having been burned.

Kurt gave him a 'what about that' look. Scott's response, a grunt and "Hopefully we'll be long gone before anybody notices."

One obstacle down, they found themselves in a short hall with the elevator, another maintenance room door and one more labeled 'Roof'.

****(Page break)

Climbing the ladder rungs behind Kitty and Jubilee, Clark was careful to keep his eyes focused squarely on the wall in front of him. He had discovered that when looking up it was far too easy to find himself peeking over the frames of his glasses, peeking being the operative word. The sight of Jubilee's naked feet and calves had brought a blush to his face so strong he was glad the elevator shaft was too dimly lit for his training buddies to see it. He was in fact so focused, that it came as a complete surprise when the girls above him came to a stop. He didn't realize until he climbed directly into Jubilee's booted feet, knocking his glasses askew and nearly off his face.

"Sorry." He apologized, resettling the glasses back upon his nose.

"Okay guys, this is it." Kitty whispered as she released the ladder rungs to step onto a narrow ledge that led up to the closed elevator shaft doors. There was a hand rail to protect from a fall, but if the elevator happened to come by, it would scrap them right off the walls of the shaft. There was just enough room for two on the ledge, so Jubilee followed her out on it.

"CK, are you sure this is the right room?" She asked.

Clark looked to the identifying plate beside the door, according to it they were on the eighth level, right where they wanted to be.

"Yeah, this is it. Our target is just beyond those doors."

Kitty licked her lips nervously, she couldn't help but feel this had all been too easy so far. "What can I expect to find in there?"

"The room outside takes up almost the entire level of the tower, about a fourth of it to your left will be partitioned off as some sort of office space. In the center of the room lies the target. According to the blue print it is in its own partitioned space with a separate environment. The rest of the room was just windows. At least according to the blue print."

"All right. I'm going to take Dazzler in with me, then I'll come back for you. Okay?"

Clark nodded and with a tight grin, Kitty and Jubilee phased through the wall beside the door.

****(Page break)

The door to the roof did have an alarm built in. fortunately, though he may not be as puissant as Forge, Scott's training and his utility belt contained what was needed to foil such a simple device. Alarm dealt with, he used an eye blast to separate the door from its lock.

"Piece of cake." He bragged with a triumphant grin more fitting on Kurt's face. To continue the juxtaposition, Kurt gave him a sour look and said; "Don't get cocky."

The roof top was flat, the edge fenced in by an iron rail and a massive antenna tower rising up through its center.

"Well, there's our target."

"Do you think the otherz are in position yet?" Kurt inquired, eyes alight with nervous excitement.

"Only one way to find out." That said, Scott led the way toward the rail overlooking the opposite tower. From here the helicopter platform was easy to see, along with the Bell Ranger currently occupying it.

"Look! There!" Kurt shouted excitedly, pointing down to the first row of windows where Jubilee's fireworks could be seen splashing off the inside of the glass causing it to warp and crack.

"Something's wrong." Scott murmured, brow furrowing in worry as the fireworks show continued long after they should have been necessary. "Night Crawler, can you teleport us over there?"

"To the roof, ja. Into that room…I need to see where I am going and the tinted glass…sorry Cyke, is too dangerous if I can't see past the glass."

"No problem." Scott responded, hand going to his visor. "Leave the windows to me."

Aiming far to the right of the fireworks display, Scott released a blast that carved a sizable chunk out of the building.

****(Page break)

Moving onto the ledge, Clark waited for Kitty to come back for him. When nearly half a minute went by with no sign of her, he grew anxious. Sliding the glasses frame down the ridge of his nose, he tried to focus his eyes on the space beyond the wall. His vision moving past the cement he saw first the metal framework within the wall, along with strands of electrical wire. Apparently when Forge programmed a simulation, he didn't leave even the smallest detail out. After the framework and wire came a thin layer of wall board, then the open space of the room itself. Clark was momentarily blinded as the bright flash of one of Jubilee's fireworks seemed to go off right in his face. Blinking his vision clear, he made an effort to shield his eyes as he looked again. The layout of the room was much as he had expected. The wall to the left of the elevator was partitioned off by glass, two rows of computer desks laid out back to back down the center of the room. At the heart of the level the bulky form of a Cray super computer stood ensconced within its own glass partition, vents in the ceiling cooling the space for optimal performance.

The room was alive with Jubilee's fireworks, they splashed about in a wild display. The reason for that was obvious and equally unwelcome. Just beyond the elevator doors, Jubilee was wrestling with a uniformed security guard. Standing behind her he had her about the wrists, struggling to keep her from aiming her plasma bolts. A little further into the room, Kitty and another guard were doing their best to dodge Dazzler's erratic attacks.

Clark silently cursed himself. He should have looked to see if there was anyone in the room. Instead he had been so distracted by the thought of seeing the girls naked, he neglected to use his abilities to full advantage. Holding tightly to the hand rail with his left, he extended his right hand to the center of the doors where he forced his fingers into the gap between. Then with far more strength than was necessary, he pulled that half of the elevator door back into the wall so hard it tried to rebound back. Grabbing the inside of the door frame, Clark jumped/pulled himself inside. Ducking a round of Jubilee's plasma blasts, he seized her attacker from behind. Wrapping his own hands around the guard's wrist, just has he had been doing to Jubilee, Clark squeezed until the guard let go. The sound of bone cracking letting him know he had squeezed a little too hard.

Distracted by his partner's pained cry, the remaining guard turned his back to Kitty who, no longer constrained by the need to avoid Jubilee's wild discharges, phased through his chest the shock rendering him unconscious.

It was at that moment that the wall at the far end of the round room exploded. Before the dust had even cleared, there was a 'bampf' and the smell of brimstone as Kurt and Scott appeared.

Scott was just about to ask what happened, when with a shimmer the building around them turned back into the empty shell of the Danger Room.

"Scott," The Professor's voice echoed out through the intercom. "would you and the others join me in my study."

Scott hung his head at the sound of disappointment in Xavier's voice.

Author's notes:

Finally, another chapter and this one is longer than most. Quantity has a quality all its own. Now that's done, maybe I'll finally finish the next chapter of Fallen. It's only been half done for three or four months now.

Regarding Clark's outfit; the yellow utility belt, red boots and blue sheen to the vest are all allusions to the traditional Superman suit ("…no capes!"). I was tempted to put colored piping down the front of the vest so that when it was buttoned it would resemble half a shield, but decided that would be pushing it.

I know the name 'Dazzler' is already taken in the Marvel Universe, but the teleporting rock star isn't in my story and I just couldn't bring myself to call Jubilee 'Sparkler'. Sorry, couldn't do it.

As for Kurt's teleporting; I know the cartoon often had him porting in blind, but the description I remember is 'line of sight', so I gave him the limitation of either being able to see his destination or know it personally.

I added the security elements to Xavier's home because it never made sense to me that he would leave military hardware (ie: stealth jets) lying around where any Tom, Dick or Bobby could get their hands on them. The addition of an adamantium wrapped vault is for use later.


	16. Chapter 16 Visitors

Chapter 15: Visitors

"I'm sorry Professor, it's my fault we failed the simulation." Scott's head hung low, the other members of his team not looking much better. "When I saw the others fighting…I lost track of my mission objective and failed to destroy the array."

Xavier waved off the boy's apology. "While it is true that you failed to achieve your objective, that does not disappoint me. You're not soldiers Scott, as a leader the safety of your team should always come first. So while you did fail to achieve the stated objective of the simulation, you did well at achieving the real goal of the exercise, that being avoiding collateral damage. With the exception of one broken wrist, no one was seriously hurt."

"So we didn't lose?" Kitty asked hopefully, though she still felt like a loser.

"No." Clark, driven by guilt, interrupted. "We did, but it's my fault."

"Cool it kid, it was just a broken wrist. You just need to learn your own str…"

Clark cut Logan off. "No! I'm not talking about the guard's wrist, that was bad enough but it shouldn't have happened, we never should have run into them in the first place. I should have seen they were there before we ever went in." Clark gave a deep sigh, embarrassed by what he was about to say. "I should have seen them but I was afraid to look, afraid of what I might have seen by accident." The last was said in a low voice, his eyes drifting towards Kitty and Jubilee, then Storm.

"It's okay Clark." Ororo tried to reassure him. "I don't blame you for what happened. Many of us have _accidents_ when our powers first manifest. We all…" Here she gestured to the other two ladies in the room. "know what it is like. No one will hold it against you." Storm had promised Charles that she would do what she could to help Clark feel like he had a place at the institute and she resolved that her discomfort over the events on the front steps wouldn't be to blame for driving him away. She also hoped that by reminding the girls of their own first experiences with their gifts, that they would be more likely to keep an open mind when confronted with Clark's.

"What do you mean Clark?" Their comments reminded Scott that the taller boy had developed a new ability, one no body else yet knew the nature of. "How could you have seen the guards inside that room before Kitty or Jubilee entered?"

Steeling himself against what was likely to be an awkward moment, Clark decided it was time to come clean. Just rip off the bandage all at once. "I could have looked to see if anyone was in the room before we entered. The walls wouldn't have stopped me because…_I can see through things_." There, he'd said it. Not that anyone seemed to understand what he meant.

Xavier took it upon himself to explain further. "Clark has recently developed the ability to see through solid objects, allowing him to see what would normally be hidden by their mass."

"That is so cool!" Kurt spouted excitedly, having quickly realized the potential. What teenage boy wouldn't love being able to do that. In his opinion, it was right up there with flying. Even better than being able to turn invisible because you didn't have to sneak into the girls showers, you could peek whenever you wanted.

"You didn't…?" Jubilee blushed, mind on their climb up the elevator shaft. She suddenly realized that she had been the proverbial woman climbing a ladder in a skirt.

Clark was shaking his head emphatically no, when Logan decided to come to the boy's rescue.

"No, the kid wasn't peeking." He cast Kurt, who was grinning in envy, a dark look. "I was watching and Kent kept his eyes firmly planted on the wall in front of him. That's why he ran into Jube's feet. Which reminds me Chuck, the kid's going to need something better than glasses when in the field. Something that won't fall off so easy. Goggles maybe."

"Yes, I see your point. In the meantime Clark, I understand your reluctance and applaud your desire to respect the privacy of the others, but you shouldn't be afraid of your abilities, you _can_ learn to control them."

"You mean he can see through our…?" Kitty had finally caught on. Blushing, she subconsciously moved to hide behind Jubilee, only to bump into the other girl as she was trying to do the same to Kitty.

Clark was intently studying his shoes.

"_Some guys have all the luck."_ Kurt muttered under his breath. "_I would trade being able to teleport for x-ray vision any day._"

At Xavier's raised brow, Logan gave the night elf a light slap to the back of the head. Not enough to hurt, but enough Kurt was giving him a dirty look as he tried to smooth out the resulting ruffle in his hair.

"You ladies can relax, Clark would never intentionally abuse his powers that way." Xavier sought to reassure Kitty and Jubilee, while casting a subtle glance towards Storm who was doing her level best not to fidget or blush. "In fact, as long has he is wearing his glasses he really can't, their purpose is to inhibit his new ability while he learns to control it. He did have some difficulties at first."

"Yea, I'll say." Logan said with a chuckle. "Should'a seen the kid's face when he…" He paused to glance teasingly at Storm, who gave him a sharp warning look in return. "…walked into the side of that parked car. Looked like he was seeing a ghost." It was far more fun alluding to what happened then it would ever be just coming out and saying it. Besides, the kids would figure it out on their own eventually. Now that should be worth a laugh.

Kitty had finally recovered enough from her shy nervousness to rejoin the conversation. "You walked into a car?" She asked. "But why?"

Some of the tension in Clark's shoulders relaxed. This was an angle on his ability that was easier to deal with. "I couldn't see it. Even after I could feel it with my hands, I still couldn't see it. All I could see was the ground beneath it and the van parked on the other side. It was like it just wasn't there. I uh…also walked into a door at school, that's what caught Dr. McCoy's attention. I didn't realize it was closed."

Scott put a reassuring hand on the taller boy's shoulder. "That's okay Clark." Tapping the side of his own frames, he added; "I for one know what it is like to have a power you can't shut off and while wearing glasses all the time can really suck, you'll get used to them."

"Scott is right Clark." Xavier added, rolling his chair a little closer. "Hopefully, with adequate time and training, neither of you will require them anymore."

"_I don't know about that_." Jubilee whispered to Kitty, both girls giving Clark a sideways look.

****(Page break)

Two days after the simulation, everyone at the institute had learned of the nature of Clark's little gift. He didn't know which was worse, watching the girls flinch when ever they crossed before his eyes, or having the guys egg him on. Really, would any of them abuse it that way if they were in his shoes? Clark liked to think not…but in some cases he had to wonder. At school none of the normal kids knew and they quickly lost interest in his new glasses. In fact, the only one paying much attention to him was Duncan. Given the nature of the looks he kept casting Clark's way, along with the way he nervously rubbed his wrapped hand, Clark vowed not to end up alone with the jock or his Neanderthal friends. He didn't want to expose himself and the others when the jerk tried to hit him with something harder than his fist. Clark didn't yet know the limits of his invulnerability but the Mordor Sim had made it pretty clear that it was more than enough to handle orcs swinging steel weapons. Even being struck by the giant troll had been more a matter of inconvenience than pain.

He was sitting at the dinning room table practicing with his vision by reading a page in a book, then reading the next without turning it, when Kitty popped up in the door. Seeing him without his glasses on, they were resting on the table to his left, she ducked back behind the wall, hiding behind it like a security blanket with only her head and one shoulder visible in the opening.

"Hey Clark." She called to get his attention.

Looking up for just a moment Clark could see her, in spite of the wall, but realizing what he was doing he averted his eyes before he saw any more.

She waited till he had his glasses on before continuing. "Professor needs you in his study." She told him, then quickly darted out of sight.

Closing his book with a sigh, Clark followed at a more dignified pace. Arriving at the Professor's study, he found not only the professor but also Lois and Ororo.

"Clark, thank you for joining us." Charles greeted, gesturing towards the chairs in front of his desk where the others were already seated. Once Clark had taken his seat and returned his attention to him, Xavier went on to explain why he had summoned them.

"By now I am sure everyone in the mansion has heard about what happened to Miss Hall in Pennsylvania. Over the years there have been several mutants who have, for their own reasons, declined my invitation to join us at this institute and I have respected their decisions and left them alone. Given Lois' discovery that Miss Hall's kidnappers knew she was a potential mutant, I decided to go back and check on those others using Cerebro." After a dramatic pause, Xavier continued. "I was unable to find several of them. I am asking the three of you to visit some of their last known places of address and see what you can find. I would accompany you myself, but I feel our cause would be better served if I stay here and continue my search with Cerebro. Are you willing to do this for me?"

Without hesitation they all assured him they would. Only Lois pausing to ask a question.

"Professor, why aren't you sending Scott or Jean? Isn't that what you normally do?"

Xavier did his best to hide his concerns for Jean and the current state of her telepathic powers behind a reassuring smile. "Normally I would, but with Ms. Monroe going along, I think the three of you can handle the investigation on your own."

So it was that when the sun rose the next morning, it found Storm, Lois and Clark aboard Xavier's private plane flying towards Vegas.

****(Page break)

"Who are they trying to kid?" Lois asked sarcastically as she looked through the windshield of their rented car, a bright red Taurus, at the line of palm trees planted along the north side of Spring Mountain Rd, the location of the San Croix Condominiums. They had flown into Henderson Executive Airport in south Las Vegas at just after the noon hour and after eating a quick lunch in a small restaurant attached to the airport, it was fancier than anything Clark was used to but both Lois and Ms. Monroe seemed to take it in stride, they had rented the Ford and headed out for the Spring Valley neighborhood in southwest Vegas. According to the files on Ororo's notebook computer the San Croix Condos were the last known address of a mutant named Liwei, a young man of Chinese descent originally from New York. The Professor's file on him said his power was a form of gravity manipulation. They also said that he used his powers to cheat at gambling, but since he kept his head down and wasn't actually breaking the letter of the law, Xavier left him alone. The San Croix complex was made up of two story tan and white brick adobe buildings located within and around a looping road named Spring Shower Dr., all surrounded by a low brick wall with arching metal bars across the top. It looked like a Palm Springs knock off, something Lois was quick to point out in mockery. Followed by a snide; "You better not be looking at my butt Smallville."

It was also a limited access complex with gates at each of the entrances. Pulling into the boulevard style main entry, Storm stopped before the closed gate her eyes going to the electronic card reader placed on the end of a metal arm that extended towards the driver's side window of the car. Digging into her purse for a moment, she prized out a plain black plastic card. It looked like any credit card, except for the complete lack of labeling. Looking closely from where he was seated in the back seat behind Lois, Clark could see what appeared to be minute circuitry lining the top edge of the magnetic strip. Rolling down her window, Storm inserted the card in the reader and after only a moment, the gate swung open allowing them to proceed.

Before Storm could return the card to her purse, Lois snatched it out of her hand for a closer look.

"Wow! How did you get one of these?" She asked a little breathlessly. That drew Clark's attention, anything that could surprise Lois had to be worthy of notice.

"I've never seen a card like that." He said. "Is it something Forge made?"

"No." Lois answered, eyes still glued to the black slip of plastic in her hands. "I've seen a couple of these before. They're made by the government. Uncle Sam issues them to Army Intelligence, the CIA, any of those agencies that don't let little things like search warrants or the Constitution get in the way. My question is how did we get one?"

Storm looked cool and collected, but the slight increase in the rate of her heart beat clued Clark into the fact that she was uncomfortable with Lois' scrutiny.

"Professor Xavier provided it. If you must know how he obtained it, then I'm afraid you will have to ask him." She said, taking the card back from Lois and hiding it in her purse.

Following the directions on the notebook, they found their way to Liwei's condo. His apartment came with a single car garage, and an adjacent carport space for visitors. The slip under the carport was empty, so Storm pulled their rental car in and shut off the motor. Exciting the vehicle they found a window into the garage that let them see the presence of a dark blue, late model Jaguar. Liwei's car according to the computer. His apartment was on the second floor. Climbing the short flight of stairs, Storm politely rang the bell, then waited for him to answer. After several minutes passed with no response, she turned to Clark.

"Clark, would you please take a look inside?"

Nodding, Clark drew his glasses down to the end of his nose. He absently noted that both Ororo and Lois were quick to step behind and out of his line of sight. Focusing his eyes on the space beyond the door, he took a thorough look around the apartment before pushing the frames back up.

"No one is home and by the size of the mail pile in front of the door, I don't think he has been here for a while."

"In that case…" Lois stepped up to the door. "I doubt he'll mind if we let ourselves in for a drink." Pulling a thin leather bill fold from her pocket, she slid her fingers into a hidden sleeve behind a credit card, withdrawing a slim set of lock picks. She smirked in response to Storm's disapproving look. "Sixteenth birthday present. Some kids get a car, I got lock picks. Of course these were from a friend in Army Intelligence. Dad gave me a Glock nine millimeter. He said it was a sweet sixteen tradition." It took only a moment before with a faint click, the door opened to her skillful manipulation. Bending down to pick up the pile of mail on the floor, Lois led the way inside while flipping through the stack. "According to the Postal Stamps on these letters, our friend Liewi hasn't checked his mail for at least two weeks."

To the right of the entry way was a pair of doors that opened into a well furnished study. Straight ahead the living room, kitchen/dinning room with a sliding glass door onto the exterior balcony. To the left, a short hall that led past the bath on the left, a closet containing a washer and dryer to the right, to the master bedroom at the end. Quickly searching the place over they learned that Liwei lived alone, was somewhat pretentious, and obsessed with gambling. He also must not eat at home very often as the only things in the fridge were a gallon of milk and several cans of beer. The milk was more than a week out of date. Lois cracked open one of the cans and managed to take a small sip before Ororo took it away from her, pouring it down the sink with an admonishing glare to which the girl's only response was a shrug and a smirk. There was no sign of where Liewi may have gone, or even that he ever intended to leave. His empty bags were still waiting in the walk in closet off the bedroom. Lois used her gift, trying to get a reading off of his belongings, but the only things in the place with anything to give were a well worn pair of dice on his study desk and all they told her was that he was fond of playing with them.

"I'm afraid this place is a bust." Lois said with a disappointed sigh as she took one more look about the study.

"Well then that is what we will have to tell Charles." Ororo replied as she led the way back to the car.

After giving it a moments thought, Clark decided to make a suggestion as he was climbing into the back seat. "Hey, why don't we go see Chloe, maybe she can help."

It only took Lois a moment to catch on. "You surprise me Smallville, that's a great idea."

"Chloe?" Storm didn't know either of the children well enough to have heard of the little blonde before.

"My cousin." Lois started to explain. "She lives here in Vegas now, but she used to live by Smallville here so he knows her. My little cuz is an aspiring journalist, if anyone in this town can dig up some dirt for us, it's her."

Directing their attention to the clock in the car's dash, Clark said; "She should be getting out of school any minute now."

Ororo chewed her lower lip in silent consideration. "Do either of you know where in Las Vegas she lives? It is a big town and if she just moved here this year she probably isn't listed yet."

"Not a problem." Lois assured her with a vague wave. "We just find her school, Alta Vista High, she'll still be there."

"Are you sure?" Storm slowly backed out of the carport, then slipped the car into drive.

"Yeah." Clark responded in Lois' place. "Trust me, Chloe won't be going any further than the school's newspaper office. We should have at least an hour, maybe two to catch her there."

With the admission of defeat as their only other option, Storm directed Lois to Google the school for directions.

****(Page break)

To say Chloe was surprised when she looked up at the sound of the door of the school paper opening to admit first her cousin Lois, quickly followed by the tall form of Clark, would be an understatement of biblical proportions. "Lois, Clark! What…how…"

"Little Cuz!" Lois cried, rushing forward to give the blonde a hug in an uncharacteristically affectionate gesture for the normally brash young woman.

"Hi Chloe." Clark greeted her, once she escaped Lois' grasp. Waving towards the woman entering behind him, he introduced their chaperone. "This is Storm, uh…I mean, Ms. Monroe. She's a teacher from the institute."

"It's nice to meet you Miss Sullivan." Ororo greeted.

"You too." Chloe was only given a moment before Lois started the teasing.

"So Chloe, who's the new beau?" Lois asked, gesturing towards the spot where Alex was still seated across from the seat Chloe had vacated in her surprise. Lois didn't know what his relationship was to her young cousin, but she hadn't missed the dark and fearful looks he was throwing Clark. Clark, who had eyes only for his childhood friend, did.

"Lois, Clark, this is Alex, my partner on the school paper."

Reaching across the desk to shake the other boy's hand, Clark couldn't hold back a grin. "So, you're my replacement huh. I hope you've been able to keep Chloe out of trouble, or at least kept her from getting you into too much. I love her but she has a tendency to leap first, _then_ look to see what or who she's landed on."

"Clark!" Chloe cried out, smacking his shoulder in mock anger.

Standing, Alex took Clark's hand, returning the greeting. He hadn't really meant to, it just sort of happened, but he gave Clark's hand a bit of a squeeze. To his disappointment the larger boy didn't even seem to notice. "I've tried, can't say I've been too successful though. Still, we haven't been arrested…yet." He smiled playfully at Chloe, subconsciously flirting with her in front of Clark, a subtle attempt to stake his claim.

Again Clark didn't notice, but Lois did. "You sorry excuses for men just can't keep up with a real woman." She said. "Sorry boys, but I'm afraid you'd best stick to playing with your…action figures." She gave them both a smirk and a quick but meaningful glance towards their collective belt lines, causing both to shift uncomfortably.

"Lois, play nice! They can't help it if boys are slow to develop." Chloe added with her own, suggestive grin.

"Very funny." Clark was realizing that maybe bringing the two girls together might not have been such a good idea.

Giving them both a happy but puzzled look, Chloe asked: "Not that I doubt you would both trip clear across the country just to see me but, why did you trip clear across the country to see me?"

"Come on Clo," Lois gave her a hurt look. "do you really think I need an ulterior motive to come visit my favorite cuz?"

"Actually…yes. So what is your ulterior motive cuz?" Chloe couldn't contain her amusement at Lois' alligator tears.

With Chloe's clear invitation to discuss their real reason for coming to Vegas, Storm took control of the conversation.

"I hope we are not imposing too much Miss Sullivan, but Lois and Clark suggested that you might be able to help us find someone who has been living here in Las Vegas."

****(Page break)

"I'm sorry guys." Chloe said nearly an hour later as she hung up the phone. She had first logged onto the computer network at the Sun, even called a couple of the reporters who had been friendly towards her, but found nothing on the man her friend and cousin were looking for. "All I can say is that there is no missing person report or police interest in your Mr. Liwei. Even the guys at the paper haven't heard of him. The only thing left I can think to do is hack the IRS database and see if he's filed a W-2 with his employer. So, how bad do you want him?"

"Not that badly." Storm answered, a little shocked at the cavalier attitude the teen showed towards the idea of 'hacking' a government agency's network.

Chloe actually looked disappointed by her answer. "Okay, sorry I couldn't be of more help. If you want, I'll keep an ear open for this Liwei guy. Maybe something will pop up at the paper."

"We would appreciate that Miss Sullivan, but please, refrain from doing anything dangerous or illegal. We will find Mr. Liwei in some other way." Storm hoped that would be enough to dissuade the girl from breaking the law. She didn't mention that it might be a good idea if the police never realized the Chinese mutant's disappearance was important. Until they knew who was collecting young mutants, it was probably best if they didn't attract attention to their search.

Bidding Chloe a fond farewell, they left for the airport and the next address on the Professor's list.

****(Page break)

There had been two more names on Xavier's list, one in Utah and another in Missouri, and nearly the whole weekend had passed by the time Storm and the kids returned to the mansion early Sunday evening. Coming through the front doors, they found a mess. It looked like a tornado had ripped through part of the mansion's upper floor and there were two suits in white hard hats taking measurements of the damaged areas.

"What happened here?" Lois asked rhetorically, aware that neither Clark nor Storm actually knew.

Storm answered regardless. "I'm sure Professor Xavier can tell us." She said before turning towards the Professor's office with the intention of delivering their report. Approaching his door, they found a fit and trim woman with short red hair and wearing a black skirt suit leaving that very room. Both her steps and the creases in her suit were sharpened with military precision, giving the strong impression that she was in uniform, even though she wasn't.

"Lt. Smith?" Lois greeted the woman uneasily.

The strange woman drew up short. "Miss Lane? I thought you were in Europe with the General." There was an edge of surprise and disapproval in the woman's voice.

Lois unconsciously stiffened, her own posture going ram rod straight. "The General was transferred to Africa. He decided that it was best if Lucy and I were sent away to school. Why are you here? What interest does Army Intelligence have in Xavier's institute?"

The woman's grimace was so well contained that it was nearly impossible to miss it.

"They have none. I'm not with the army anymore Miss…Lois."

Lois scoffed. "You're kidding. I thought for sure you were a lifer."

The red head's lips drew into a tight line, marring her otherwise pretty face. "Yes, well an opportunity came up that was too good to let pass."

"If you're not in the Army anymore, then why are you here…Ophelia?"

"I'm sure you witnessed the damage yourself, Lois. Charles Xavier called us in to make the necessary repairs. That's all."

Lois didn't even try to hide her disbelief. "You telling me you left the Army to work for a construction company?"

Ms. Smith clearly found the question insulting. "The company I work for specializes in security Lois. Also, discretion. Something your Professor greatly values. Now if you will excuse me, I have a plane to catch."

With a tight nod, Ophelia Smith walked past them and down the hall. Lois watched as the former military officer stopped to exchange words with the hard hats before leaving.

"Somebody you know Lois?" Clark asked the obvious, inviting Lois to explain.

"Lieutenant Ophelia Smith from Army Intelligence. At least she used to be. I still can't believe she gave up her commission to go private. She loved the uniform too much."

"Army Intelligence? Let me guess, she used to search your room for contraband."

Clark was really interested in learning what it was about the woman that set Lois so on edge, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to make a few digs. Lois wasn't amused.

"No one searched my room Smallville. She used to work for my father, before transferring to Intelligence. Both she and the General felt it was the opportunity of a lifetime. In some ways she was the daughter he always wanted and no, I wasn't jealous. I just don't like her. Come on, let's go find out what happened."

****(Page break)

Out front of the mansion, Ms. Smith climbed into the back of an unmarked sedan. Once it cleared the grounds she pulled out a cell phone, waiting a moment for it to synchronize encryptions with the one on the other end, before skipping right past banal pleasantries to report.

"All preparations are made and taken care of Sir…Xavier claims it was a training accident. He refused to elaborate further. Why are we…understood Sir." Whatever it was that she 'understood', Ophelia didn't seem too happy about it.

"One more thing." She added, jaw so tight you could almost hear her teeth grinding. "General Sam Lane's daughter, Lois, is staying at the institute. I'm certain he wouldn't have sent her there if he knew…(sigh) yes sir, I understand. I wish to go on record as saying that I don't feel it is a good idea to hide this from General Lane. He is a good man and a fine officer, we shouldn't…Yes, I understand. No Sir, you don't have to worry about me breaking protocol, whatever my personal feelings. I should be back aboard by eleven hundred hours, I will finish my report then sir."

Hanging up the phone, she stared out the window into the falling dark. Her expression made it clear how unhappy she was with the Lane situation.

****(Page break)

Clark hated to admit it, but this was definitely one time when he was profiting from another's pain and misfortune. After returning home from Vegas, he and his companions learned of Jean's loss of control and subsequent trashing of the mansion. When faced with the possibility that the redhead might accidentally read their minds, or throw them out a window, the other girls at the institute seemed to totally forget their fears that Clark might see them naked. It even had the affect of distracting the other guys from teasing him about it.

Clark didn't like seeing anyone treated like a pariah, he hoped that the other student's previous experiences and admiration for Miss Grey would prove enough to overcome their fears of her quickly. Even Rogue, who he knew saw the popular redhead as a threat and rival for Scott's affection, had lost much of her previous hostility towards her. Clark had heard about what happened and how Rogue helped Jean regain control by taking on some of the burden of her abilities. Her change in attitude reminded him of the old adage about walking a mile in another man's shoes. It also made him wonder if Xavier was right, if Rogue could come to accept Jean, maybe the other students wouldn't find it so hard to accept him if they knew the secret of his origins.

There was another unexpected fallout from the weekend; somehow he had become Lois' confidant, whether he wanted to be or not.

After visiting the Professor's study and reporting their lack of findings, of the three only the woman in Missouri had left any sign of foul play. They hadn't been able to enter her suburban home, having to content themselves with Clark sneaking a peak from outside the crime scene tape. There wasn't much to see, the interior of the home looked like the scene of one of Logan's legendary nights in a backwoods bar. Clark even saw what he thought might be claw marks, wide and deep gouges in the kitchen's hard wood floor. With all those signs of a fight it was a real shame Lois hadn't been able to get inside. She argued the point with first Storm and then the Professor, but neither felt it a good idea to risk exposing mutants to the police. Xavier had suggested that maybe the next weekend, after the investigating officers had exhausted their own efforts at the house, she might be able to risk a second visit.

Still, when Lois pulled him aside after their report to the boss it wasn't the missing mutants she wanted to talk about, but the mysterious visit by former Army Lieutenant, Ophelia Smith.

"Don't you think you might be reading too much into this Lois?" He asked when she started in with her conspiracy theories. "Did it ever occur to you that she _might_ have told the truth, that she _was_ just here to oversee repairs to the mansion?"

"Don't be daft Smallville." She scoffed. "There is no way Ophelia abandoned the Army to become a suit in some petty construction company. I know her, she worked as my father's aid de camp for two years. That woman bleed green and sweated Army pride. Her idea of a relaxing weekend was sitting down to shine her combat boots. There is no way she gave all of that up for a cubicle in corporate America."

"Maybe she did it for the money. I'm no expert but everything I've ever heard said the private sector pays better than the military."

"You're right Kent, you're no expert. Besides, the Smiths aren't what you would call hurting for cash. Ophelia joined the Army because she wanted something bigger than her father's wealth, something I know her CEO daddy wasn't too happy about. No, I don't think she left the Army, or maybe I should say _Army Intelligence _at all."

The look he gave her spoke volumes, all of it skeptical.

Her response was to smack him on the arm. "Think about it Smallville, remember that card Storm used in Vegas…the one only given to government agencies like the CIA…or Army Intelligence. Now how do you think the Professor got his hands on one? I think it was given to him, by Lt. Smith."

If anything, the doubt on Clark's face became even more deeply engrained. "Be serious Lois. Do you honestly think the Professor is in the Army? The man is in a wheelchair. Besides, he's a mutant."

The look she gave him in return was a mix of contempt and pity. "Your back water roots are showing. Think about it Smallville, even as dense as you can be do you honestly doubt for one moment that Uncle Sam wouldn't love to get you into a uniform? Not to mention Scott, the walking, talking Howitzer, or Kitty or Kurt? Well, maybe your right about Kurt, he has _way_ too much personality to ever fit in with a cold fish like Lt. Smith_._ Believe me, there are plenty of generals in the Army who would love to have access to our mutant abilities. That's not even mentioning the CIA and a telepath like Jean, or the FBI and my own self. Think about it Kent, the government knows about mutants and what's the best way to defend against the likes of Magneto? You recruit mutants of your own. Mark my word, at the end of Senior year it won't be just college recruiters knocking on our door."

****(Page break)

It was Monday afternoon and the end of another oh so thrilling school day. After the events of Saturday and her role in Jean's meltdown, Rogue really felt the need to unwind a little. Something her new friend Risty, the transfer student from England, was especially good at. And Risty was always ready to help her unwind, especially if it meant breaking a few of Xavier's rules.

It turned out Risty had a car parked only a few blocks from the school, so after a quick word to Kitty asking her to tell Storm that Rogue was going to hang out with a friend after school, the two took off west towards the big city.

Kitty hadn't taken it very well. Ever since Risty came around, Rogue had been spending less and less time with the other students at the institute.

When Rogue returned home late for dinner she found a lecture from Storm, and her own private conversation with the Professor awaiting her.

As for Risty, once she was safely away from Rogue and the mansion, her form blurred, flesh and clothing flowing like liquid into that of Simon Wilder, Risty's lone parent and legal guardian. The man who enrolled her in Bayville High and ostensibly dropped her off and picked her up every morning. The back windows of the car were tinted too dark to see in and the townhouse were Risty lived came with a garage, so none of the neighbors could actually see if the teen was in the back seat or not. Still, she was careful to be seen coming and going in both forms so that no one would grow suspicious of their quiet neighbors from across the pond.

Mr. Wilder had barely entered the kitchen from the garage when he heard the ringing of the doorbell. Shifting into the form of Risty, she went to answer it least someone think them unsocial. She made it a habit to answer the door as Risty, she would then leave any visitors waiting in the front room as she went to retrieve her 'father' from his study in the back of the townhouse. It helped to perpetuate the fiction that there were two people living there, letting people mistakenly believe that they had actually seen both together in the home at the same time.

Opening the door she found a man of late middle age with short, dark hair gone mostly to gray. He was wearing a dark, no nonsense business suit. A briefcase completed the image, along with the chauffer driven Mercedes waiting behind him at the curb.

"Yeah?" She greeted him, tone and posture that of a disaffecting teen.

"Hello Risty." He responded with a false smile. "I am Mr. Anderson and I have a proposal I would like to discuss with you, if I may enter." He made a brief gesture into the house.

"Let me get my father." She replied warily, backing towards the hall and leaving him waiting in the open door. "You can talk to him."

"If that is what you would prefer." He consented, taking a small step into the front room. "Or we could just dispense with the formalities and I can just talk to Mystique. Or maybe Ms. Darkholme? The choice is of course, up to you. I have no preference."

Risty stopped, one foot already in the hall. "What do you want?" She asked, her voice dropping to the lower and slightly menacing tones once familiar to the students at the high school.

Stepping the rest of the way inside, he closed the door behind him. "I told you, I have a proposal that I feel would greatly benefit us both. Do you mind if I sit down?"

The fact that he knew who she really was, yet so calmly stood alone in her presence, was enough to make Mystique wary. He reminded her of Magneto back when the mega mutant first sought her allegiance. Deciding it would be best to play along, she gestured toward a padded chair that had come with the fully furnished townhouse. "Please do. Would you care for a drink?"

He gave her a smile, genuinely pleased that she had decided to pursue a more pleasant course of action. "No thank you. I don't believe this will take long."

Sitting across from him, she remained poised to shift or move without warning.

Laying his briefcase on the coffee table between them, he went on to explain. "I have long been interested in acquiring the gems of Cyttorak and I believe you can help me."

Mystique noticed a strange sensation in the back of her mind, one she normally associated with Charles Xavier. "Stay out of my head." She commanded, threateningly.

"My sincerest apologies." He said with a smile that was anything but. "Just trying to keep you honest."

A shiver of unease raced down Mystique's back when she realized that all of the color had left his eyes, leaving only the black pupils surrounded by white.

Ignoring her discomfort, he continued. "You have one of the gems and while I had hoped you might point me in the direction of the others, I wish to purchase the one you have."

As he said that the briefcase lid opened and without the benefit of hands, turned to show her that it contained neatly bundled stacks of hundred dollar bills. It was a lot of money and money always had its uses. It was also something that Mystique had little difficulty getting her hands on and she had her own reason for wanting the gem stones.

"I'm sorry Mr. Anderson, but though your offer is more than generous, I have my own plans for the stones." She was careful not to think of Rogue and her inability to control her absorption powers.

"I see." He said, staring at her contemplatively. He seemed unperturbed at her refusal. "Then perhaps I have something of greater value to offer you. You see unlike our young friend Eric, I have a more than passing familiarity with the workings of the mutant gene and the uses of Cyttorak's gems. I can say with confidence that whatever your plans for the stones, you are more likely to succeed with my help then without. I will leave you to consider it." Standing, he drew a small business card from an inner jacket pocket. "Call this number when you decide."

Taking the card from his hand, Mystique could see that there was only a number with no name. An international number at that, one sure to be hard to backtrack to its source.

Moving to the door, he left the open briefcase on the table. "I'll leave this," He said, gesturing towards it. "as a token of my interest in doing business. I'll be waiting for your call."

Standing in the open door, Mystique as Risty watched him walk to his waiting car and drive off. Looking back towards the briefcase on the table, she estimated that there must be half a million dollars in it. She took it for what it really was and that wasn't a gesture of good will, it was a threat. Any man with the resources to throw away that kind of money on a gesture, was a man not to be taken lightly. Closing the door, she stood with her back against it, much like the teenager she appeared to be. What should she do? Her experiences with Magneto had soured her on the idea of making alliances with powerful mutants, and she had no doubt that Mr. Anderson was very powerful, but he was also right. With only one gem there was little she could hope to do, while her visitor was far more likely to collect the other two then her. Even if she did somehow manage to obtain all three stones, without Magneto's machine she had no idea how to use them. Should she deal with this stranger? Did she dare say no?

****(Page break)

In the back seat of the Mercedes, Lionel shook out his rapidly growing locks. "So tacky." He said, tugging uncomfortably on the lapels of his suit coat. "Oh well, in business one does what one must to close the deal. Mr. Williamson."

"Sir." The driver looked back at him in the rear view mirror.

"Learn everything you can about Mystique's activities, especially where she has hidden the gemstone."

"You don't think she will do business sir?"

"Oh, she'll do business alright, she has little choice. But until we know exactly what she wants with it, best not to take any unnecessary risks."

"I'll see to it sir."

"Good. Is my flight ready?"

The driver gave a brief nod. "Ms. Heather has made all of the arrangements and she assures me that General Salazar has arranged the necessary clearances for the flight to the island."

"Very good. It is always a pleasure working with professionals."

"Thank you sir."

Author's note:

I know I said Hogwarts would be updated next, but I had a few thoughts for Kal'Ex and when I typed them up, everything just flowed so easily that before I knew it this chapter was done. So…here it is.


	17. Chapter 17 Unpleasant Relations

Chapter 16: Unpleasant Relations

When the sun rose that morning it once again found Lionel Luther on a helicopter traveling west, only this time it was over surging waves of water, not rocky badlands. Another difference, the helicopter wasn't a shinny new Bell Ranger and it wasn't painted white with the double 'L' insignia, but a Russian built Mil Mi-17 transport helicopter that looked like a flying black bus. It was on loan from the military of Ecuador, courtesy of General Salazar. The large bird was entirely 'blackened' out, with no visible markings and flying the chopper were two of the general's most trusted men; men who could both be counted on to be discrete.

They hadn't scheduled a flight plan either.

Riding in the long cargo/troop compartment were Luthor, his assistant Mr. Williamson, along with Donald Pierce and two of Pierce's computer tech assistants. The rear of the cabin was taken up by two large crates containing the first of Donald's creations.

Mr. Williamson raised one hand, pressing against the side of the heavy headset he wore to block out the noise of the helicopter. The unconscious physical gesture signaled to those around him that he was hearing something over the helicopter's internal communication system. Reflexively nodding in spite of the fact that neither crewman in the cockpit would be able to see it, he gave a verbal indication of understanding back through the attached mic before leaning over to lightly tap his boss on the shoulder.

Lionel was seated next to his assistant in a rear facing padded chair, his back against the wall separating the flight crew from the cargo hold, only the headset he wore was playing pleasant music to help drown out the unpleasant noise of turning turbine and spinning blades. When he felt the tap on his shoulder Lionel opened his eyes, pulling the ear muff on one side away to hear.

"Mr. Luthor!" Williamson near yelled in his ear once he had Lionel's attention. "We should be arriving at the island in ten minutes!"

Luthor nodded in acknowledgment, a slight smile expressing his pleasure at the nearing end of their trip. These crude military craft had their advantages, but comfort was not one of them and after all these years that was something Lionel had learned to appreciate. The young and dumb may disdain such as weakness, but the older and experienced traveler learned the value of a soft seat and air that didn't reek of oil, exhaust and sweat. Not to mention the ability to hold a decent conversation, the one thing that truly set man above the animals. They were called 'dumb' for a reason and it wasn't their inability to think after all.

****(Page break)

Located northwest of the island named Darwin, the commonly held furthest Galapagos island from the mainland coast of Ecuador, stands the small island of Isla Barica, just one of the hundred and seven islets included in the chain. Less than a quarter mile in length, the great rock rises sharply to just over five hundred feet above sea level. While officially part of the Galapagos Island chain it is mostly ignored due to its lack of interesting sea or animal life, or any life at all. Isla Barica is a bare rock shoved up from the ocean floor by the volcanic activity that formed the rest of its more famous fellows. There are no beaches for seals or tortoises to sun upon, no fertile ground for trees or significant plant growth. It's rocky surface home to nothing more than lichen, moss and some scraggly grass growing between the cracks. The only thing significant about the island was that near the end of World War II the U.S. Navy built a fortress of concrete and steel upon its peak, a listening post to watch for Japanese vessels that might attempt a quiet approach along the west coast to California. In spite of their plans to do so the Japanese never did succeed in launching any attacks against the continental United States and at the request of the government of Ecuador, the island was abandoned after the Japanese surrendered. The nation of Ecuador had no use for it. The islet was only accessible by helicopter or rock climbing and there were better rocks to climb, so Isla Barica remained empty and abandoned…that is until Lionel Luthor found a use for it. With the help of his new friend, General Salazar of the Ecuador Republican army, it was child's play to occupy the empty structure all without anyone the wiser.

Here, literally hundreds of nautical miles from the nearest lawful authority, Lionel Luther had constructed a lab complex capable of housing and studying every specimen on his list and soon it would be ready to receive its first guests from the Nevada site. That was the purpose behind this visit, the delivery and instillation of Pierce's toys, the last step before beginning operations.

Dense fog is common to the Galapagos Islands from the months of June to November and this morning was no exception, making the top of the island appear as if a dark mountain peak were piercing up through the roiling clouds below. The helicopter circled around to a landing pad hidden on the northwest shoulder, were it would be sheltered from the frequent gusts of wind blowing in from the south. Landing gear extended, the Russian war bird settled safely behind the low wall, safely protected from weather and prying eyes both. The blades were still spinning as a wide steel bay door opened in the concrete side of the island complex, men and equipment rushing out to transport the two crates from the helicopter into the building.

With the turbines shut down and the slowing blades only producing a fading 'whop-whop' sound, far more conducive to conversation, Lionel walked to where the tall form of Donald Pierce stood like an unmoving statue overseeing the unloading of his equipment.

"Donald." He called out as he drew alongside the taller man. "How long will it take you to install the equipment?"

Glancing up towards the skeleton of the outpost's radar tower, the tall man stared straight into the rising sun without squinting or shading his eyes.

"The tower will be functional within sixty-eight hours, depending on how long your men can work without sleep. As for the ground units, they will be on the prowl within the hour. I just have to double check their target recognition parameters. It wouldn't do to have them killing your personnel by accident if someone steps out for a cigarette."

"Yes, that would be inconvenient." Lionel agreed with a slight grimace.

As the two spoke, Pierce's assistants were directing the men in breaking down one of the crates. As the blue coverall wearing workers lifted away the top and sides of the box, four metal forms were gradually exposed to view. Great metal beasts, they were curled up in a fetal position that would take up less space within the crate. At the direction of a technician tapping away on what appeared to be an Apple I-Pad, the four legged mechanical monsters quickly came to life, standing and stretching in a way that strangely resembled great cats rising from a nap. They were formed much like cats only without ears or tails, except for the shoulders and hips which clearly included full ball sockets for a wider range of motion. Their paws, both front and rear, also included opposable thumbs that retracted up and out of the way for running. Each digit mounted a savage claw of hardened steel, perfect for scrambling up sheer surfaces or rending flesh. The technician ran the first through a check list, causing it to flex and move much like a flesh and blood creature.

Lionel was struck by how much they resembled his own Chimera, except of course the mouths. When Donald's pet opened its jaw, which slid down instead of hinging at the back, instead of showing a beast's toothy maw, the robot revealed the focusing lens of a high output laser. Too weak to be of much use against mechanized forces, the miniature cannon would still play havoc on any flesh and blood intruders attempting to assail the island.

"Excellent!" Luthor announced with a smile. "If you will excuse me Donald, I think I'll go check on Dr. Conrad's progress."

Walking away, Lionel entered an elevator that would carry him deep into the bowels of the island.

****(Page break)

Lois hated to admit it but she was kind of excited to be doing something besides sitting in boring classes or participating in _safely _controlled training exercises, even if it was just a mild case of breaking and entering. Clark, on the other hand, just looked uncomfortable and she guessed he would rather be back in Bayville at the school carnival where he wouldn't have to risk doing something…_illegal_. It reminded her of some of the stories Chloe had told her once they knew he was something they held in common. Smallville just couldn't handle excitement.

It was the weekend and once again it found Lois, Clark and Storm far from the mansion sitting in a rental car. This time it was a pale blue, ageing Dodge Intrepid in rural Missouri. They were driving slowly down the street fronting the home of Donna Gardner, twenty six year old wife, mother of two and the third name on Xavier's list of missing mutants. Not much had changed since the last time they were here, the house still appeared to be vacant, sagging yellow police tape roping off the yard and stretched across the front door. There was a noticeable lack of police cars and news vans this time, apparently an unsolved kidnapping with signs of foul play only held the public interest for so long, at least when there was no new news to report.

Storm continued driving down the road. The case may be long past the first forty eight hours, but that just meant the police would be quick to investigate any reports of strangers skulking about the house and attention was the last thing Xavier wanted. Instead she kept going until they found a mom and pop gas station. Stopping beside one of the pumps, she dug into her purse removing two twenties which she then handed to Lois.

"Lois, would you go inside and pay for forty dollars in gas? Clark, would you please pump it? I dare say a couple of teenagers will hardly be remembered."

"Okay." Lois answered, taking the money after sharing a confused look with Clark.

It was early in the morning but there were still plenty of cars traveling up and down the road. Too much traffic to enter the house unseen, not to mention the neighbors who would be sure to take notice. Exiting the vehicle, Lois went inside the store while Clark climbed out of the back seat and proceeded to pump gas, a task he was very familiar with. Still inside the car with her hands braced on the wheel at ten and two o'clock, Storm bowed her head slightly in concentration. Her brown eyes clouded over with a milky white as she focused her powers. When Lois returned to the parking lot it was into a rapidly rising ground fog, one that quickly cut down visibility to ten feet and shrinking. She climbed into the passenger seat, followed shortly by Clark in the back.

Storm's eyes were still shinning a pearly opalescence as she held the fog in place.

"Clark," She directed her gaze into the rearview mirror, meeting his eyes in the reflection. "…can you see through the fog?"

"Yea." He answered uncertainly. "If I take off my glasses."

"Good, then I want you to drive."

"But I don't have a valid license."

Lois rolled her eyes at Smallville's resistance to doing anything wrong.

"You do know how to drive don't you?" Storm asked.

"Of course, I started driving around the farm as soon as I could reach the pedals and I have a day time license for Lowell County, but it doesn't count here. What if we get pulled over?"

Lois couldn't bite her tongue any longer and she didn't even try to hold back the tone of mockery. "Would you relax Smallville, it's not like a cop can see how young you are in this fog. Besides, all things considered I think underage driving would be the least of our problems if we get caught sneaking around a crime scene. Sheesh, Chloe said you get as nervous as a virgin on prom night but really."

Clark didn't say anything, his only response being to look at her, his jaw tense and brows drawn together in what was trying to be a disapproving scowl. Lois almost laughed at the sudden image of the flannel wearing Mr. Kent she had met at the beginning of the school year, giving that same look to a much younger Clark. Probably quite often.

"Enough bickering children." Storm admonished. "Clark, will you drive?"

"Sure." He answered, most of the nervousness driven from his voice by the indignation he felt at Lois' little dig.

He and Storm quickly traded seats and Clark maneuvered the large vehicle back out onto the street. Ironically enough with the fog and his piercing vision, he was currently the only safe driver on the road. At the resident adult's direction, he pulled directly into the driveway and around back of the house to the carport. With the fog no one would see the car parked there.

Exciting the vehicle, the intrepid trio moved to the back door where Lois took out her sixteenth birthday present, working a little of her magic on the lock. Gloves on they entered the kitchen being careful not to disturb anything. Not that it would have made any difference, the room looked like a battle field. Most of the dinning room furniture had been smashed and several cupboard doors had been caved in or out right ripped off of their hinges. The floor was littered with the shattered remains of several glasses, some dishes and a coffee pot. The machine the pot went with fared no better, its pieces scattered across the stove top like plastic hail. As Clark had seen during their last visit there were wide gouges, like claw marks, dug deep into the hardwood floor. Lois knelt down for a closer look.

"These kind of resemble the claw marks of a mountain lion," She remarked, "but they're far too big."

"You've studied tracking?" Clark asked, incredulous.

Not bothering to look up Lois took off her right glove, absently answering. "The General was stationed in Colorado for a while. It was in the middle of nowhere so Lucy and I entertained ourselves by going hunting with some of the officers from the base. They were hunting Cougars and they taught us how to recognize their tracks. Now be quiet and let the master concentrate."

Clark snorted rudely but Lois ignored him, reaching down to touch the rough edge of the gouges. Just touching a surface in the room was enough to open the floodgates into her mind, the events that took place there had saturated it with emotions strong enough to still overwhelm her more than a week later. To her eyes the room seemed to pull itself back together, only to quickly disassemble as she watched a scrambling young woman with short brown hair being attacked. It was Donna, she was terrified and with good reason. A…_beast_, Lois could think of nothing else to call it, coiled itself like a cat readying to pounce, before releasing like a high tension spring launching itself at the frightened housewife. It was like no creature Lois had ever seen before. Its shape was like a cross between a cat and a gorilla, with a head that combined the vicious jaws of a Rotweiler with the heavy brow and broad neck of a bear. The eyes were piercing, like those of a hawk. The only word Lois could think of to describe it was ugly…no, that wasn't strong enough for it was way beyond merely displeasing to the eye. It was a nightmare married with an abomination. The beast was totally devoid of hair or fur, its naked flesh like that of an elephant or maybe a rhinoceros; Thick with deep wrinkles, in places forming heavy pads that resembled armored plates over its back, neck and shoulders. Its nose was blunt with deep, wide nostrils similar to a shark's, while the swiveling ears definitely belonged on a bat. It had claws to, large hooked ones that sank into the floor boards like a knife through warm butter as it pushed off, leaving the very marks Lois was touching.

Donna ducked behind the kitchen counter, successfully avoiding the creature's first attack. Her joy was short lived though as the fiend reacted with incredible speed, redirecting its lunge as soon as its paws hit the countertop across the way, smashing the coffeepot. Though lacking the momentum of its initial lunge, it weighed in at Lois guessed more than two hundred pounds and had no trouble pinning Donna to the floor beneath its paws. It failed to hold her there though as with a primal scream of pain and rage it leaped off of her, its skin blackened here and there with electrical burns.

Climbing to her feet, Donna's body was arching electricity across her flesh like she had spent a thousand years wearing wool socks. The Professor said her mutant gift involved the generation of bioelectric fields and it looked like a lack of proper training wasn't holding them back any. Donna didn't waste time congratulating herself, instead diving past the beast and racing toward the back door, only to run head first into a man entering from the back of the house. A tall man with dark hair and a bad suit, he grabbed her about the wrists wrestling to hold her in place. A surge of confidence caused the housewife to almost smirk as electricity burst forth from her body and arced to his, a smirk that quickly disappeared when the expected reaction failed to happen. He didn't cry out in pain, uncontrolled muscle spasms ripping his hands away from their grip, instead his skin took on a crystalline cast and seemed to absorb the current, even taking on a dim glow as it did. Focused on her desperate struggle to escape, Donna didn't even notice the small hovering device as it drifted in around the pair and behind her. It was shaped like a three inch thick Frisbee, with opposing spinning blades mounted above and below in its hollow center. Once it aligned itself with her, there was the 'pfft' sound of released air as it fired a needle like dart into the back of her neck. The effect was almost immediate as Donna collapsed into her attacker's arms. The man in the bad suit was still gathering up her draping form when the mechanical probe exploded in sparks, its outer casing shredded by a swipe of the beast's claws.

"Rupert!" He yelled, moving quickly to take the unconscious woman out of harms way, clearing the door for another man to enter.

Rupert was a small man barely over five feet high with narrow shoulders, a skinny torso, receding hair and a hooked nose. A mouse of a man, he looked ridiculous facing off against the burly monster. Lois could actually feel the tension as waves of the little man's will slammed up against the beast's pain filled rage. The scene faded out as the beast slowly submitted to the power of it's opponents mind, a mind that felt similar to Xavier's.

"Lois?" Clark's voice was filled with concern, a comforting hand resting on her shoulder.

"I'm fine." She said rising to her feet. He might have believed it if she didn't suddenly waver like all of the blood had rushed from her head. Clark put an arm around her shoulders, helping her stand until she recovered her strength. Lois was so weak she didn't even have the strength to brush him off, because she certainly wasn't enjoying the feel of the farm boy's arm around her…no way, not now, not ever, and she certainly Didn't need his help.

"Lois," Storm stepped in front of the teen, worried by the strength of her reaction even though she had seen it this strong twice before. She still didn't feel right exposing a child to such violence, only accepting it out of necessity. "what did you see?"

Lois didn't respond to her question, instead casting her eyes about the floor at their feet searching. "It's gone." She said, her mind still lost in the vision.

"What's gone?" Clark asked, trying his best to sound comforting.

"The little flying…RC thing." She explained absently.

Clark exchanged a puzzled look with Storm.

"What was it?" Storm asked, stepping into the girl's line of sight to capture her attention.

Finally looking up, Lois tried to explain. "There was a flying…remote control…helicopter thing. It fired the dart that took her out, but I saw the beast destroy it and now it's gone."

"What did it look like?" Clark was now looking about the floor himself, glasses slid down his nose. He did raise a brow at her mention of a beast.

"I don't know…a flying metal donut. Like the cameras they show in sci-fi movies. It's gone…her attackers must have taken it, or maybe the police did."

"Wait." Clark moved away from her, stepping up to a large heavy china hutch free standing against the wall. The front of the cabinet was damaged, obviously from the fight, but that wasn't what held his attention. There was a narrow gap between the massive fixture and the floor, not even big enough to slid more than a finger's width underneath. Carefully taking hold of the cabinet, he gently lifted it and held it to the side exposing the floor and with it a small piece of metal and plastic that had been hidden beneath. Lois snatched the fragment up, freeing Clark to return the cabinet to its place.

"Bingo!" She was excited at finding their first piece of physical evidence.

****(Page break)

Chloe would never be accused of being too patient. Her investigation into the local drug dealer was still waiting for Alex's birthday and the coveted driver's license, but she saw no reason to wait that long. She had Robert's juvenile record and the address it gave said he lived in the suburbs to the west of the city, not far from her own happy home, so she decided it wouldn't hurt to do a walk by, just to get the lay of the land. According to the file Robert's father drove truck for Western Refrigerated Freight, a little research turned up that they delivered from L.A. to Arizona. His mother worked for one of the casinos. Chloe wasn't surprised to find the house, a rather nice little two story that looked exactly like all of its neighbors, was empty. His father probably spent his days mostly on the road while mom likely worked afternoons and evenings, which meant little Robert was left mostly unsupervised.

She was sorely tempted to sneak in for a little peek but this wasn't some farmhouse in Smallville where the nearest neighbor was at least a quarter of a mile away, this was urban suburbia with the neighbor's house just six feet over the fence. Some of their neighbors were even out in their yards and there was no way she could enter the property, much less the house, unseen. She might be willing to take risks to break a story but that would be just plain stupid. No, it would be better to visit after dark if that were to prove necessary.

She was just turning to continue on her way when she saw a familiar Camaro coming down the road. Doing her best to act nonchalant she continued walking as the muscle car drove past her, pulling into the Wagner's driveway. There was a Ford Aerostar minivan, complete with proud parent sticker prominently displayed on the bumper, parked alongside the road ahead of her and since it should effectively hide her from Robert's sight on the other side of the street she ducked behind it as she passed.

Looking back to the Wagner's driveway she saw Robert climb out of his vehicle, another boy about the same age and cut from the same cloth exiting from the passenger's side. Chloe didn't know who he was but she was willing to bet that both boys were in the same business. Pulling out her cell phone she used the built in camera to snap a couple of quick pictures as the two entered the house. Afterwards she used it to make a call as she walked down the sidewalk towards home.

"Alex," She greeted cheerily into the device as soon as he answered. "we need to get yearbooks from all of the area schools. I have a new face that needs a name."

****(Page break)

They say history repeats itself and in this case that was proving disturbingly true as Xavier once again found himself seated at his desk, studying a small object that had been placed there by some of his students after investigating the scene of a kidnapping.

"You're quite sure this fragment came from the device used to subdue Donna Gardner?" He asked, carefully picking up the item in question for a closer inspection.

"Yes." Lois answered with assurance, only to have her confidence wane under the bald man's scrutiny. "Okay, no I didn't actually see it break off of the flying zapper, but it didn't look like it belonged to anything else in the room and given that Clark had to move a two ton piece of furniture to retrieve it I'm betting that whoever cleaned up the rest of it missed this little piece."

Turning his attention back to the object held between his fingers, Charles voiced his agreement. "Yes, that would seem probable. If so, then we finally have our first piece of real evidence linked to the people who kidnapped Miss Hall and the others."

"Err, maybe not…" Lois nervously worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "I mean, I didn't see any of the same people and…"

"Lois?" He encouraged when she trailed off.

"Yeah, well these guys were clearly mutants or…well at least not normal. The one guy turned to crystal when Mrs. Gardner used her powers on him and the little guy had powers similar to your own. As for the beast…I have no idea what kind of mutant it might have been, it certainly didn't look human. More like someone chopped up a bunch of animals and then mixed up the pieces with the aim of making it as ugly as possible."

Xavier took a moment to puzzle her description over in his mind. "Mutants, well that is troubling. Still, even if the two kidnappings aren't linked at least this may help us find Mrs. Gardner and fortune may yet smile upon us regarding young Haley and Liwei's disappearances. You've done well Lois. You too Clark, Ororo. I have some assosciates that might be able to help track down the manufacturer of this device so if you will excuse me I think I will give them a call."

Dismissed by the professor, Ororo led Clark and Lois from the room but once in the hall she stopped to address them herself. Placing a hand on Lois' forearm, she gave the girl a symbolic embrace. "I'm very proud of you Lois. You may have just saved that young woman's life. Thank you."

Lois couldn't hold down the blush that arose in her cheeks at the older woman's praise, something the General had rarely given. Fortunately she was saved from the awkwardness of the situation by Clark's attempt to be both funny and supportive.

"Yeah little lady, you did good. Why, I may have to take you out to dinner and one of them there moving picture shows I've heard tell of to celebrate." He tried hard to sound like the back woods hick she had often accused him of being.

Saved from her own embarrassment by the chance to pile on his, Lois hooked her arm through Clark's. "You're on Smallville, and since I know you just got paid I expect only the best restaurant New York has to offer."

Even Storm couldn't help chuckling at the look of fear that came over Clark's face when he realized he had just unintentionally asked Lois out on a date. A date the girl in question was clearly not going to let him worm out of as she led the flabbergasted teen down the hall while carrying on a one sided discussion of just where he could take her.

****(Page break)

In his office Xavier waited until he knew the children had left his door before using his computer to place a secure video call. He felt it was better not to risk Clark's sharp hearing. He still had some secrets he didn't feel his students were ready to know.

"Hello Charles, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" Asked the distinguished looking black man who's face appeared on the small screen. The hint of gray at his temples, along with the presence of an eye patch, serving to emphasize his commanding presence rather than detracting from it with implied weakness.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your busy schedule Colonel, but my students and I have been investigating several missing persons cases and I believe your people can help to identify a piece of evidence left at one of the scenes."

"Missing Person's, isn't that a little out of your area of interest?" The man asked, almost accusingly.

"No, in this case I fear it very much falls within my stewardship."

The Colonel spent only a few seconds considering the professor's request. "Very well, I will have Lt. Kimura fly out and collect what you have."

The Colonel was about to sign off, when Xavier spoke up to keep his attention.

"It would be best if he held off until tomorrow while the children are at school." Xavier's face screwed up, like he was contemplating something very unpleasant. "Also, I will arrange for Logan to be away from the mansion. In the interest of avoiding unnecessary friction."

On the screen the Colonel gave only a brief nod of recognition before killing the feed from his end.

Xavier settled back in his wheelchair with a sigh. Sometimes he really regretted the necessity of working with the Colonel, especially given the difficulties created by Logan's past relationship with Fury.

****(Page break)

In a townhouse on the far side of Bayville Mystique sat ensconced in a large easy chair, relaxing in her own skin within the security of Mr. Wilder's dimly lit study. In spite of her languid posture, the blue skinned mutant was anything but at ease as she sat contemplating the cell phone laying on the table before her. She unconsciously tensed whenever her yellow gaze fell upon the business card resting beside it. The same card left by her mysterious mutant visitor, the one who threw money around like water in the ocean. Every night since his visit she had spent at least a few minutes staring at the phone, debating whether or not she should take him up on his offer, wondering if she dared to tell him no.

After her experience with Magneto's betrayals she was deeply loath to tie herself to another powerful mutant.

Still, he was right, she really did have little hope of reclaiming her daughter when she held only one of the three gems of Cytorrak and her odds of obtaining the others were higher with his help.

**No!** She wouldn't place herself as inferior to another megalomaniac, not when she still had a card to play. All she needed was a few minutes of unfettered access to Xavier's mansion, or more importantly the levels hidden beneath it. She was sure she would find what she needed there and the thought of taking it from the man who had stolen her children left her with warm feelings of satisfaction. She knew just how to do it to. Xavier's naivety made him easy to lead around by the nose and as for his students…one thing she knew from her years as a high school principal and babysitting Magneto's Brotherhood was that teenagers, even mutant ones, were driven by their hormones and juvenile desires, not by good sense. For the first time since before the disaster of asteroid M she truly relaxed, confident as she contemplated the course of action before her.

Author's Notes:

First, I have to apologize for taking so long to update…anything. I hadn't realized just how long it had been until I looked up the dates preparatory to writing this apology, I apparently haven't updated Hogwarts since 2009 ( a surprise to me ). Truth be told I have spent a great deal of time working on these stories, just most of it staring at a blank screen with only the occasional sentence or paragraph to show for it, often followed by the delete key. But recently someone sent me a cattle prod to the posterior by way of a pm, reminding me that there are some people who actually want to read them, so as a direct consequence I am posting this chapter of Kal'Ex while it is still six pages short of my desired standard. It's just as well, what is coming next really doesn't belong in this chapter. Believe it or not I actually do have this entire story line charted out, it's just the little detail of actually writing it out in anything resembling meaningful text that is taking a long time.

The next chapter will be titled 'Fun and Games', just like the cartoon episode. I am hoping to use the story originally broadcast with Clark playing an actual role in the events leading up to and during the party. I also intend to correct a few things that seemed to me would only make sense to people under the age of eight.


	18. Chapter 18 Dancing to Distraction

Chapter 17: Dancing to Distraction

In Stokes County North Carolina, nestled up against the border of Hanging Rocks national park, lay the Stokes County Military Reservation. A recently opened facility it was officially listed as an Army weapons depot, a very secure one built of reinforced concrete and razor wire. What the locals and even most of the Federal legislature didn't know was that it was built to house only one weapon, one neither built nor controlled by the military, an unstoppable Juggernaut.

Not that Specialist First Class Lenny Horlacher gave it much thought as he sat another long night on watch. After all, it wasn't like he had ever seen the weapon, to him it was just a bunch of gauges, dark warning lights and silent klaxons. It was against regulations but the absolute silence in the guard room could drive a man insane so he routinely snuck in an MP3 player. The magazine he didn't have to hide, even his superiors weren't that cruel.

His attention diverted by complacency, Lenny didn't notice when the various gauges began to climb towards their red zones. With his eyes focused on the latest issue of Guns and Ammo, he didn't notice as the first lights began to flash. With the latest incarnation of the Back Street Boys filling his ears, he didn't hear the initial buzzers. The first thing Lenny did notice was a slight irritation caused by the strobe effect of the flashing lights, followed by the sudden recognition that the discordant and jarring noises he was hearing were not in fact part of the last song because, well, it just ended…and they hadn't.

Finally looking up he almost fell out of his chair, overwhelmed by the cacophony of noise and light. He had been instructed on what to do if this situation ever occurred but that had been months ago and after the first few weeks Lenny had come to accept that it would never _ever_ happen, so now when suddenly faced by this distorted reality in which it _was_ happening his mind froze unable to remember what to do. After what seemed like an eternity of mind numbing panic the soldier fell back on reflexes trained and conditioned by years of dealing with officers, he grabbed the phone and called someone of higher authority.

****(Page break)

Elevator doors opened deep within the earth, releasing Major Joshua Stone into the only holding cell within the Stokes County facility. It was a round room thirty feet across, with stainless steel floor and walls surrounding a pillar made of bullet proof glass three inches thick. The pillar was six feet across and filled with bioelectric fluid, the green stuff that when properly charged kept their prisoner safely sedated. That prisoner being Cain Marko, better known as the human Juggernaut. A giant of a man made of hard muscle and bone with not an ounce of fat, compassion or mercy to speak of. A living, unstoppable force of pure destruction.

A man that was supposed to be as still and lifeless as a statue but watching Stone grew uneasy as he witnessed the occasional muscle twitch, evidence that the slumbering behemoth was moving closer to awakening.

Normally the room was cold and sterile but right now several of the wall, floor and even ceiling panels had been removed exposing conduits, piping and circuitry, while several panicky technicians in white coats ran diagnostic tests on every system. One of those lab coats, Dr. Albert Conrad, approached the Major with some sort of computerized tablet in his sweaty hands. The doctor wasn't a military man but a government subcontractor, all be it one with a security clearance higher than that of most brigadier generals

"Are you ready to give a report Doctor?" Stone asked at the smaller man's approach.

"Yes sir. Major Stone, we have a self replicating computer virus sir, or actually several, all infecting multiple parts of the system."

"A virus?" Stone asked incredulously. "Are you telling me this is all because of some teenager with acne and too much time on his hands?"

Dr. Conrad didn't even dignify that statement with a response.

"The viruses are very sophisticated sir, this is clearly a deliberate act of sabotage and Major…as you know this is a completely isolated facility, with no links to the outside world. Whoever infected us did it from the inside."

Stone's eyes narrowed at the thought that they had been physically breached. "Can you fix it, or do I need to call the Colonel and inform him that we are going to lose containment?"

The look on Conrad's face was not filling Stone with a wave of confidence.

"No, we can deal with the viruses, but…it will require a complete purge and reboot of all systems at once, otherwise the viruses will just re infect each system as we bring them back on line."

"How long will that take Dr.?"

"Two minutes and forty five seconds sir."

"And how long would it take sleeping beauty there to wake up?"

"One minute and twelve. What do we do?"

Stone looked grim as he answered. "We make a phone call."

***(Page break)

In Bayville New York, at the Xavier Institute, the students were awakened in the middle of the night by a mental summons from the Professor. All except for Clark, he was awakened by his roommate Scott.

"Eh, what?" Clark asked, his voice clouded with sleep and confusion.

"Come on Clark, the Professor needs us down stairs." Scott answered. Still dressed in his sleep clothes, green sweat pants and a t-shirt, the older boy was already out the door before Clark was awake enough to climb out from between his own sheets. Clark stopped long enough to pull on a red t-shirt to go with his blue sleep pants before following. The girls had finally stopped teasing him about his state of undress after his first session in the Danger Room and he didn't want to risk getting them started again by showing too much flesh. There were already enough pictures of him floating around, thank you.

Less than five minutes later the students were all gathered downstairs outside the elevator in the main hall. Clark imagined it to be similar to the slumber parties he had seen on TV. As he looked over his classmates in their pajamas his eyes grew warm at the sight of what some of the girls wore, or didn't wear, to bed. Realizing that the sensation was a familiar one, and not wanting a repeat of Storm and the shrub, he quickly focused his attention on Xavier as the professor rolled his wheelchair out of the elevator to face the gathered teens.

"I apologize for the late hour," The Professor said, "but I have just received an urgent summons from Major Stone."

"Stone…from the penitentiary?" Scott mumbled, sleepily.

"Whoa whoa, we're not talking another Juggernaut breakout are we?"

The rush of adrenalin at Spike's words succeeded in fully waking the others. All but Clark, Lois and the other new students who didn't know about the dangerous mutant yet.

"No, at least not yet," Xavier reassured his students. "but his containment unit has begun to fail."

Always quick to take action, Scott turned and with a wave of his arm informed the Professor; "We'll be suited up and ready to go in five. Gang, let's move."

"No, I'll be going alone." Xavier announced to his first student's disappointment. "However, with Ororo away in Africa and Logan out on the open road somewhere, I'm faced with a dilemma. Which means Scott, Jean, I'm placing you both in charge. Can I count on you?"

"Without a doubt Professor." By his tone it was clear that Scott was surprised Xavier felt he had to ask.

Jean added; "We'll hold down the fort here, you just worry about your brother."

"Yes, thank you. I'll see you in a few days." With that, Xavier backed his chair into the elevator.

Once the doors had closed Scott turned to the others, rubbing his hands in an effort to dredge up some excitement. "Okay, since we're already up, how about starting the day with a little Danger Room calisthenics?"

The others just ignored him, heading off towards their rooms and awaiting beds with mumbled cries of "forget it" and "whatever". Even Lois, who was normally ruled by her curiosity, was too tired to care at the moment.

"Don't let the power of command go to your head, Professor _S_." Jean chided, as she too walked away.

Scott gave out a big yawn. "Okay, you win." He said as he to headed back to bed.

****(Page break)

"Hey Kitty!" Risty ran to catch up to Kitty in the hall at school. "Anything fun going on this weekend?" She asked hopefully.

Kitty gave the other girl a tentative glance as she drew alongside. While the English girl was always friendly enough they had only bumped into each other in their orbits around Rogue and weren't really friends themselves. If she was being honest with herself, Kitty thought the other girl might be a bad influence on the moody mutant. She had certainly done a good job of separating Rogue from the group at the institute, coming onto the scene just when the goth girl was starting to open up. Then again, Kitty thought to herself, if I work at being friends with Risty…Maybe that will bring back Rogue? With that in mind, Kitty decided to respond as if they really were friends already.

"Nothing. My ears been to the ground all week but the party circuit is dry." She lamented.

"Umm, you know…" Risty offered absently, as if only thinking out loud. "if only we knew someone who's parents were gone for the night, we could throw our own party."

Proving that Rogue wasn't the only girl she was a bad influence on, Kitty started excitedly; "Hey! You know something…" The seed had been planted and later, during lunch break, it began to take root in the hallway as Kitty met Kurt, Rogue and Spike at the girls' lockers.

"Yea, while the Professors away…" Spike began, "The kids can play." Kurt finished while performing a remarkable one armed handstand, before flipping up to his feet to exchange a high five with his classmate.

"And play it loud." Kitty added, dancing and giggling in front of her open locker. She had broached the possibility of throwing their own party at the mansion to the others as soon as they met and, not surprisingly, the boys immediately latched onto the idea.

Ironically, given that the whole thing was originally spawned by her friend Risty, it was a dour faced Rogue that threw a cold blanket on their excitement. "Reality check people, Scott and Jean."

"Oh yeah." The other three moaned in unison, disappointed by the reminder that the overly responsible couple would never agree to anything as risky as an unsupervised or unsanctioned party.

"Yes, that's a problem…" Kurt began, but then his face lit up, "but what are X-Men if not problem solvers, right?" His voice was filled with the youthful conviction of someone who didn't know any better.

****(Page break)

While Kurt was outlying his plan for ensuring their inevitable downfall, outside at a table in the courtyard Lois and Jubilee were discussing Clark's.

"I can't believe he actually asked you out!" Jubilee somehow managed to squeeze out in between the giggles.

While Lois wasn't giggling, she couldn't contain a self satisfied smirk. "Yea, well it wasn't really what he had in mind, but you should have seen Smallville's face when I told him I accepted. He thought he was being funny but the joke was on him."

"So, when are you going to let him off the hook?"

"What? Are you kidding?" Lois' face took on a look of false and overblown shock. "And deprive him of the opportunity to spend an evening with a real woman? This may be Smallville's only chance to go out with a girl that doesn't wear a bell around her neck." Lois' cheeks pinked a little as a look of chagrin came over her. "Besides, it's not like this town is overrun with decent guys and at least Smallville is easy on the eyes."

Jubilee leaned forward with a grin. "I'll say, he's gorgeous!"

"I wouldn't go that far." Lois leaned back, doing her best to look disinterested. "Still, he's certainly better than the competition." She gave an obvious look across the yard to where Jean and Duncan were sitting. "Besides," She let loose a small grin. "I think Scott's taken."

Jubilee followed Lois' gaze to where Scott was leaning against a tree, talking to Jean's friend Taryn. "It's about time." The Chinese girl said, a definite note of satisfaction in her voice. "Scott's been mooning over Jean since I got here and she doesn't give him the time of day. I can't believe she's interested in that jerk, Duncan. What can she possibly see in him?"

Lois had actually given the question some thought since Jean first introduced her to the quarterback. "Well, like I said there isn't exactly a lot of competition around here and…I think she has known Scott for too long. In her mind he's probably like a brother or something." Of course, the disgruntled looks the redhead had on her face as she was circumspectly casting glances at the boy talking to her best friend might have argued otherwise.

"Yea, I guess I could see that. So, back to something important. Where is Clark taking you for dinner?"

Lois smirked. "I told him I wanted to go somewhere nice, and since we're in New England that means Surf n' Turf." She broke out in a sharp laugh. "The poor thing had no clue what I was talking about. He had to ask Scott."

****(Page break)

Clark hadn't intended to ask Lois out but he did and she was right, he did have plenty of money saved up and really nothing else to spend it on. Besides, while he wasn't about to tell Lois, this was going to be the first date he'd ever been on. Between fears of exposing his secret and the fact that he was only fifteen, his parents had yet to let him date, and given that the only girl in Smallville he wanted to ask out was joined at the hip with the school quarterback…he hadn't pushed it. Well he wasn't in Smallville anymore and as for his parents not wanting him to date until he was older, they were the ones who sent him here to meet people and that included girls. If they didn't like it then they should have kept him at home.

Not that he really minded coming here anymore.

No he hadn't planned on having his first ever date with Lois, but if he was going to do this he was going to do it right. He was going to give her a night to remember and not just in a string of jokes told at his expense.

The problem was, he didn't have any idea how. He had to ask Scott what Surf n' Turf meant and was overjoyed to learn that it included steak. He had been afraid that it was some kind of weird French thing, but a steak house he could handle. He wasn't too sure about lobster, they didn't eat much seafood in Kansas.

Clark didn't know of any restaurants locally and Scott wasn't much help, his dating experience being equal to Clark's (namely brooding over the quarterback's girl while _he_ was taking her out). So he did the only thing he could think of, he channeled Chloe, which is a nice way of saying he did a search on the internet. Which is why he spent his lunch break in a school computer lab.

You ask Google for a listing of restaurants in the New York City area and what you get is a phone book. There had to be at least a hundred just in Manhattan alone, not to mention everything between Jersey City and Hampton Bay.

Well he could cut out everything west of Garden City and Rockville. That was all technically part of New York City itself and while Lois had a driver's license, it wasn't valid within the metro area with its higher age requirement. It was bad enough that the girl was going to have to drive when he took her out, there was no way he was going to impress her while riding a bus. No, Scott said they could use the van and that meant they were going somewhere Lois could drive. With all of his criteria clearly laid out it didn't take Clark long to find a restaurant that fit the bill, one Blackstone steak and seafood in Central Islip. According to the internet it was only a forty five minute drive from Bayville. A quick call, with the cell phone the institute had provided him at Logan's suggestion, and he had a reservation for two that night. Easy, maybe this dating stuff wasn't something to be nervous about after all. Who knows, if tonight went well maybe he would try _intentionally_ asking a girl out.

Clark didn't realize it but his date with Lois held one other advantage, it kept the other students from trying to include him in their party plans.

****(Page break)

After school Scott was sitting on the hood of his car on a hill overlooking Bayville, when Duncan pulled up in his convertible to drop off Jean. She had certainly made him wait long enough.

"See you tomorrow, Duncan." Jean gave her boyfriend a quick kiss as she closed the car door. It was enough to boil Scott's blood. He held onto the knowledge that she had been jealous of the attention Taryn had been paying him. It was the only thing keeping the bile in his stomach.

"Hi." Scott and Jean both said at the same time. Jean came around to join him in front of the car, placing her book bag upon its red and white stripped hood.

"So a…what's up?" Scott asked slyly.

Neither he nor Jean saw Kurt teleport in behind the car, then reach in to take the keys out of the ignition.

"I don't know, you tell me." Jean replied.

Again neither noticed as Kitty phased up through the hood of the car to slip Jean's cell phone out of her back pack.

"Kitty said you wanted to meet me up here." Scott told her.

"What?" Jean said, confused. "That's what Kurt told me."

"Oh, I see what's going on." Scott had a terribly wonderful idea.

"Yeah, it seems we've been um…"

Smirking, Scott cut her off. "You're being sneaky again, aren't you?"

Jean huffed in surprise. "Huh, what?"

Scott was on a roll. "You wanted to get me up here but blame it on someone else. You really are jealous of Taryn, aren't you?" He folded his arms, smirking like he was God's gift to women.

"I…that is so not true!" Jean retorted, climbing off the hood of the car and angrily folding her own arms. Walking around, she climbed into the passenger seat of Scott's car. "Take me home you ego maniac." She ordered.

Now frustrated himself, Scott climbed into the driver's seat and reached for the keys, only to find them missing. "Fine, but…hey, what's the deal?"

"Oh, I get it now. Lure me out here, and then conveniently have car trouble." Jean turned her head away in disgust. "Boy, that's original."

"Whoa, hey, this was not my idea."

****(Page break)

Risty didn't come to the party at the mansion that night, Carol did, a girl who hadn't even existed before that afternoon. A girl who's appearance just screamed 'bad girl', at least in the world of pocket protectors and technophiles. Five four, slender, with dirty blonde hair, a pert nose, freckles and slightly buck teeth, Carol was attractive in a non cheerleader sort of way. While likely to be ignored by the Duncan's of the world, she was perfect for arresting the attention of your high end geek. Good looking enough to be desirable, but not too good to be attainable.

While the X kids were busy sabotaging Scott and Jean, Mystique, as Carol, was visiting one of the computer labs on campus.

As the former administrator of the school she was familiar with its students, but most especially with the trouble makers and one of the first and foremost of these was Weber Torque. Mr. Torque wasn't a true criminal, he didn't steal or commit petty vandalism in an effort to garner wealth or his parents' attention like the other problem children of the school, his great weakness was his unmanageable ego. Weber's crimes were committed for the sole purpose of proving to himself that he could, for personal bragging rights. He was also a teenage boy with rampant hormones making him perfect for her needs. It didn't take much for her to convince him to be her date to Kitty's party. Even if her looks hadn't been good enough to sell him on the idea, the subtle mention of there being a super computer at the mansion was more than adequate to seal the deal.

Carol and her date arrived at the party late, it was already in full swing when she led the smirking Weber through the mansion's front door. No one even noticed them or would have paid them any mind if they had, the front hall was already wall to wall with dancing teenagers and loud music. There was food aplenty and more than a little alcohol, anonymously donated by several of the more _considerate_ teens in attendance.

Neither Carol or Weber were really interested in hob knobbing with the crowd though, so they quickly and unobtrusively made their way through the party goers and deeper into the mansion. Soon enough they had left the noisy teens behind and were walking down wood paneled halls.

Putting on a show of uncertainty, while dragging Weber by his sweaty little hand, Mystique lead him to the main elevator that gave access to the lower levels.

"Oh look! Kitty said the computer was in the basement, I bet that elevator is how we get to it."

Pulling him within, she went to hit the button for the lowest floor when Weber brushed her hand away in rising excitement.

"Cool." He said, leaning over for a closer study of the elevator controls.

"What is it?" Carol asked, feigning ignorance for her practiced eye had already picked out the elevator's security panel.

"It's a finger print scanner." He answered, already lost in the wonder of his discovery. "I bet there are more levels than are shown on this display, but in order to access them you need to have your fingerprint on file." He grinned infectiously. "Oh yeah, this is serious security. I can't wait to see what they have hidden down there."

"Great, but how are we going to get down there?" She asked feigning dismay. "In case you've forgotten, we don't live here and I seriously doubt our finger prints are in the system." Not that it would be a problem for Mystique, copying the fingerprints of Xavier himself would be child's play, but if Mr. Torque couldn't get them past the elevator then he would be worthless for accessing any of the treasures below.

Fortunately for her Weber didn't disappoint, something you wouldn't expect to hear about one of his dates.

Reaching into one of the several pouches in the bandolier he wore across his chest and torso Weber drew forth a set of lock picks with which he quickly opened the control panel, exposing the wiring and circuitry. It also exposed a set of data ports. Putting away his tools, he brought out what looked like a heavily modified scientific calculator which he plugged into one of the ports. After less than five minutes of fiddling with the device Mystique could feel the elevator begin to descend.

****(Page break)

Two thousand miles and two time zones away, another couple was spending their Friday night on a rather unconventional date of their own.

It was only four in the afternoon in Las Vegas and Chloe and Alex were seated across from each other at a table in the library. Pilled atop of it were school year books from all seventy three high schools in the Las Vegas area. Armed with printouts of the photo Chloe took of Robert and his friend in the Wagner's driveway, they were comparing the boy in the photo to those pictured in the assorted year books. Though admittedly, Alex was devoting more of his time and effort to studying his blonde counterpart. He was so focused on her that he nearly fell out of his chair in surprise when she suddenly popped up out of her own seat with an exhilarated cry of discovery.

"Here he is!" She cried.

Looking toward the book in her hands, Alex just had time to make out a silver hawk's head mounted against a teal colored background before the excited teen shoved its open pages under his nose. Her finger was pointed towards the left most picture in the top row, it was a picture of a tow head with the shadings of a juvenile attempt to grow a mustache. According to the list of names along the right edge of the page his name was Gerald Aberdeen. Certainly not the kind of name one normally associated with drug dealing bottom feeders. "Okay, now we have a name, what do we do with it?" He asked.

Chloe gave him a look of near contempt. "You are a reporter, right? We track him down, find out where he lives, who he hangs out with, and look for signs of criminal activity."

The comment stung a little, causing Alex to get a tad bit defensive. "Great, I guess we just look in the phone book under Aberdeen, there can't be more than a few _hundred_ listed. Maybe he's named after his dad, making it easy. Of course, they might also be unlisted. I know, we'll just look on Craig's list under drug dealers, maybe he advertises."

"Not a bad idea." Chloe murmured distractedly. "And try Face book to, it's amazing what people will put on the internet."

Alex sat in stunned disbelief. "I was kidding! You don't honestly believe they post information about their drug dealing business on the internet?"

Now he had Chloe's undivided attention and it was her turn to look confused. "Why not? Come on Alex, people post videos of themselves committing crimes all the time, do you honestly think Robert is smarter than the average idiot? It's not like he's doing a good job of hiding it here at school you know. Oh, and as far as the phone book goes, concentrate your search in Silverado and Southfork." She held up the year book, finger tapping against the stylized hawk's head on the front. "He goes to Silverado High, remember."

****(Page break)

When the elevator doors opened to expose a subterranean hall with curved walls and stainless steel paneling it filled Clark with dread, the response it drew from Weber Torque was a breathless "Cool…".

For Clark halls like this were the stuff of nightmares, for Weber it was a whole other sort of dream and they usually involved a girl like Carol. Mystique on the other hand was definitely the stuff of nightmares for any adolescent boy.

"Oh, this is so awesome!" Weber said in a sharp whisper. He stepped out of the elevator, tentatively putting down his foot in the hall, almost as if he was afraid it would disappear. When it didn't he took off down the hallway at an excited pace that had Mystique hurrying to catch up. In his excitement Weber had totally forgotten about the girl.

While for Weber running the halls under Xavier's mansion was filled with the rush of discovery, for Mystique it was a frustrating lesson in patience. A lesson that wasn't going to end quickly as the boy insisted on checking out every door and room, all of which raised speculation on his part for why a private school had all of this hidden underground. It was to Mystique's good fortune that they stumbled across the door to the vault before the hanger, one look at the Black Bird would have doubtlessly derailed the young man from further exploration.

None of the doors were labeled for all who belonged here would already know where they were going and Mystique had never succeeded in infiltrating this deep into the school, not with a telepath in residence, but when she saw the complex locking mechanism on the heavily fortified door she knew she had hit pay dirt. If Xavier and his students did indeed have what she sought then it would be behind this door.

"Key card, numerical pad…hey, even a retinal scanner." Her date observed as he studied the lock. "That's some serious security. Whatever is behind this door must be real important to somebody."

Carol nibbled on her lower lip in a way Mystique knew teenage boys found adorable. "Do you think this might be where they keep the super computer?"

Weber let loose an arrogant grin. "Well if it is then it's mine." Pulling even more tools from his bandoleer, he set to work on the lock. The numerical pad was the easiest, it was just a matter of letting his little toy run the different combinations while sidetracking any security protocols that might have locked it down after too many failed attempts. Next came the key card which was just more of the same only with a physical element, a wired card similar if more primitive than the one Storm carried. The hard part was the retinal scanner and by the time he succeeded in bypassing it Mystique was struggling with the desire to brain the little dweeb. She was wishing she could just shape shift her own eyes to match Xavier's but never having had the excuse to stare long enough or close enough into the telepath's eye to memorize the pattern of veins on the back of the ball, she was stuck waiting for Mr. Torque to work his magic. When the door finally opened she didn't wait for her date, rushing in ahead to search for her prize.

The door was two inches thick, hardened steel with a quarter inch of admantium lining the inner side. Beyond was a short hall that opened into a longer hall maybe thirty feet long. Separated along each side were cubicle style spaces, some with clear display cases, others with steel faced drawers like bank deposit boxes, and several open tables or work benches. At the far end of the hall, behind an insulated glass door, could be seen three banks of super computers laid out in parallel rows. While Mystique was scanning through the different cubicles, Weber raced to the computer towers not stopping until he practically slammed bodily into the clear door, from which he then jumped back as if burned.

"Oh man that's cold!" He tentatively traced his fingers along the clear surface. "There are three separated panes in this door, all sealed and probably filled with gas and I can still feel it. Even the air in there has a slight haze to it, like the room is filled with some sort of gas. Cool! Those things must generate incredible amounts of heat. They probably filled the room with super cooled gas. I don't even recognize the computer configuration…this has to be cutting edge!" He glanced back towards his distracted date, though in his own state he was hardly aware she was there and totally ignorant of the fact she wasn't paying him or his discovery any attention. "What could they possibly be doing that requires this kind of computing power?" It was a rhetorical question and he turned back to the machines in question without waiting for an answer. "You could probably track every airplane in the U.S. with this thing, heck you could probably track every car…" He trailed off as his eyes caught sight of a thick bundle of fiber optic cable strung across the ceiling from the computers to the wall on his right. "There's a trunk line, whatever terminal accesses these machines has to be in that direction."

Turning, he ran unseeing past his date and down the hall. Though he had no way of knowing it, he was headed right towards Cerebro.

The only notice Mystique took of Mr. Torque's departure was a grateful sigh for the resulting silence. Leaving the boy to his toys, she was performing a quick but methodical search through drawers and display cases.

****(Page break)

After a long walk from their remote rendezvous, Scott and Jean finally reached a road side convenience store with a payphone that Scott used in an attempt to call for help. Hanging it up, Scott turned around to face a fuming redhead. "No one is answering at the mansion." He told her.

"How about their cell phones?" Jean suggested.

After another failed attempt to contact anybody at the mansion, Scott started dialing again.

"Kitty, Rogue, Kurt…nobody is answering." He reported.

"Then who are you calling now, the Professor?"

"What, and tell him he never should have trusted us to take care of things while he's gone? I'm not making that call. No, I'm calling Clark. He and Lois are down in Central Islip on their date. I'm going to ask them to swing by and pick us up. I'll get my spare key and have Lois drive me back to collect my car while you wring some necks."

Jean grimaced before giving a short nod. She hated to disturb Lois' and Clark's date but Scott was right, she didn't want to tell Xavier that he couldn't count on them either.

****(Page break)

Weber Torque made his way down the hall, attempting to follow the computer trunk line to the next room along that side. He passed two doors on the other side of the hall before coming to a short hallway extending away in the needed direction. At the end he found another reinforced door with a retinal scanner. Grinning, he dipped once more into his tool belt. Busting these things was getting to be old hat.

****(Page break)

Neither Lois or Clark would ever admit it, but there date was proving not only pleasant but very enjoyable. Relaxing over a good meal, Clark even tried the lobster, they had spent the last hour just talking and getting to know each other better. First they had talked about the one thing they both had in common, Chloe, then Clark told Lois a little about growing up in Smallville. Lois was now telling the farm boy about life as an army brat, when Clark's cell phone began to ring.

"Hello." He answered. Lois watched, curious as to who was interrupting her date.

"Well, we're still at the restaurant…yea, were almost finished. Are you sure, isn't there anybody else you can call?…No, it's okay. We'll be there in forty five minutes, bye."

Hanging up and returning the phone to his pocket, Clark gave Lois an apologetic grimace.

"Sorry Lois, that was Scott. He and Jean are stranded at a convenience store just outside of Bayville, apparently the victims of a prank. They need us to go pick them up and give them a ride back to the mansion."

"Don't sweat it." She told him.

Getting up first, Clark came around the table to pull back her chair the way his parents taught him. Lois had to admit that she found his country manners rather adorable. He wasn't much like the brash boys she had known growing up on base. As Clark was helping her on with her jacket, she gave him a warm smile. "Thanks Smallville, tonight has been very pleasant. Even if you hadn't really intended to ask me out."

A rush of warmth flooded through him at her words. "Your welcome Miss Lane. It wasn't bad for my first if I do say so myself."

Lois' brief look of shock quickly changed into a small grin. "Smallville, are you saying this was your first date…ever?"

Flushing bright red Clark cursed his loose tongue, before tripping over it in a vain attempt at damage control. "First…of course not. I've been out with a girl several times."

"Really." Lois' smile grew into a full blown Cheshire grin. "These dates, were any of them not with my little cuz and did she know it was a date?"

"What! Of course, I mean…" Clark had been brought up to be uncomfortable with lying, so he decided to shut up before things grew any worse. "Don't you think we should be going? Scott and Jean are waiting for us."

****(Page break)

Once the door slid open Weber did not find what he expected in the room beyond, after all, who would expect to find a big hollow ball with a walkway jutting out into its heart. At least there was the hoped for computer terminal located at the end of the walk. He leaned carefully over the edge to take a peek at the empty space below where he discovered that there were no support pillars underneath. After a couple of experimental jumps, just to see if the walkway would shake or sway, Weber started a slow stroll out to the terminal.

He was annoyed to discover that in spite of the controls being at waist height, there was no chair to sit on. There was a strange silver head piece resting atop the console. Picking it up, he turned it over in his hands but other than the cable linking it to the console it might has well have been a funky hat for all he could discern. Still, he tried putting it on before hitting any of the buttons on the console. It didn't matter. He lacked the necessary hardware to complete a mental interface with Cerebro. It was built for telepaths, not computer hackers.

There wasn't a screen but once his fiddling woke up the system a holographic one was projected into the air beyond the desk. Weber let loose another grin. This place was just dripping with high tech goodness.

Scrolling through menus with the traditional controls, the head set wasn't doing a thing for him ( or his looks ), Weber saw many icons and attached labels that he didn't recognize. There was even one that resembled the silver helmet on his head but when he clicked on it the only response was a message announcing that 'user interface' had failed to initialize. He found files on everyone of the kids who lived at the mansion but since he already knew most of them he didn't bother to read them. There was one symbol there that jumped out at him, it was an eagle with a stripped shield mounted atop its breast.

"This looks interesting." He whispered to himself. "Let's see what it is, shall we." And with that, he double clicked the icon.

****(Page break)

Many miles away, tucked into a corner of the command deck of an aircraft carrier, a young woman in a military uniform with the same shield and eagle symbol on its shoulder was monitoring the ship's wireless communications systems. Her monitor signaled an incoming communication from the Xavier Institute, very surprising given that she knew the Professor was in North Carolina. Turning in her chair, she called out to the officer on deck. "Sir,…" She called, "we are receiving a communication request from the Xavier Institute in Bayville."

She may have used the term 'sir' but it was a woman she directed it at, Ophelia Smith, former lieutenant of the U.S. Army. The redhead was once again wearing a uniform but it wasn't one Lois would be familiar with. It was a form fitting black combat suit and jacket, not too dissimilar from the ones Xavier's own students wore, only with a service pistol belted around the waist and the shield bearing eagle in place of the Professor's own 'X'.

"We shouldn't be." Lt. Smith responded, moving closer to look over the other woman's shoulder. "Charles Xavier is providing support at the Stokes County facility during their reboot. No one else is even supposed to know about us, much less be able to initiate contact."

"I don't know sir," The Ensign answered. "but we are receiving a request to respond. Should I?"

"Yes. Let's see who's calling."

Turning back to her station, the Ensign displayed the incoming signal on her primary monitor. Subconsciously leaning closer for a better look, both women drew back in surprised confusion when instead of Xavier's bald head, they found Weber Torque's full head of hair staring back through the monitor.

Back in the Bayville mansion, Weber was equally surprised as two women appeared in the holographic image suspended within Cerebro.

"Hello?" He greeted, half questioningly. He didn't recognize their uniforms but the ladies in question would have fit right in with his adolescent dreams.

"Who are you?" Ophelia demanded.

Normally Weber would have been too smart to tell, but she was a frighteningly beautiful redhead in a uniform. His hormones took over.

"Uh, they call me Arcade cause there isn't a computer made that isn't my play thing." Gathering his courage, he gave her what he intended to be a self confident smirk. "Who might you be?"

Without a word, she reached past the Ensign and switched off the feed on her end while leaving the image of Mr. Torque staring out of the screen. She then opened a shipboard intercom line to her superior's private sanctum. "Colonel Fury, there is a problem at the Xavier Institute." She explained without preamble once the Colonel's face appeared on the monitor.

"What sort of problem Lieutenant?"

"Unsure sir, an unknown juvenile has initiated contact from Cerebro. He doesn't seem threatening."

The Colonel frowned, or maybe it was a scowl with Fury it was often hard to tell. "Lock down the mansion, no one gets in or out without my say so, and Lieutenant…"

"Sir?"

"Activate the Sentinels."

That surprised her. "Are you sure sir, what about the students?"

"Don't worry Lieutenant I'm not ordering a sweep. Direct the Sentinels to secure all points of egress, stunning weapons only. Are we clear Lieutenant?"

"Crystal sir."

"Good. After you do that call Lt. Kimura, tell him I want Xavier back in Bayville ASAP."

****(Page break)

"Come on Charles, you've got to have them. No one else could have taken them!" Mystique muttered to herself in frustration. She had already made her way three quarters of the way down the vault and though she had found several interesting items along the way, including a computer disc labeled with the names: Eric Magnus Lehnsherr, Pietro Maximoff and Wanda Maximoff ( She had always wondered about the relationship between Magneto and Quicksilver, now she had possible evidence of another Maximoff and possibly another mutant ), but interesting as that was it wasn't what she came here seeking.

After the fall of asteroid 'M' she had possession of one of the gems of Cyttorak, but that left the other two unaccounted for. With Magneto's base scattered as debris across the tundra, she hadn't been able to find them. Her only hope was that like her, Xavier and his team had picked one or both of them up before leaving. If she had at least two of the stones she could use one to deal with the mysterious Mr. Anderson, while holding the other for future leverage.

She was moving to search the fourth and final pair of cubicles when sections of the lighting tracks in the ceiling began to flash red. Turning she was just in time to see the vault door begin to slide shut. It took her all of three tenths of a second to decide that she couldn't afford to be trapped in the vault, gem stones or not. A quick morph into a cheetah, the disc case clasped firmly between her teeth, and Mystique sprinted through the entrance and into the outer hall nearly losing her tail to the closing door. Morphing back into her natural blue skinned form, she looked both ways down the hall and only now realized that she didn't know where her erstwhile companion had gone.

"Weber!" She hissed the name like a curse. The only explanation she could come up with for this change of events was that annoying teenager and his overwhelming curiosity for all things technical. Deciding that Mr. Torque could fend for himself, she morphed back into her Carol disguise and started heading towards the elevator in hopes of slipping out uncontested. Half way there she pulled up short as her sharp eyes saw a section of the curving wall slide back several inches before scrolling up into the ceiling above. Out of the newly exposed alcove rolled a robotic form on a tripod of wheels. Seeing her it raised one of its mechanical arms and she seriously doubted the barrel lining its length was intended to fire out confetti. With the elevator cut off from her, she turned and ran back into the maze works hidden under Xavier's mansion.

****(Page break)

When Lois and Clark pulled into the convenience store they found Scott and Jean pacing anxiously in the parking lot, the two were so anxious they nearly jumped when they spotted the black club wagon van. They didn't even give Clark enough time to finish opening his door before they were through the side door and in the back seat.

"Thanks guys and I'm sorry we interrupted your date." Scott apologized, only for Lois to wave it off.

"Don't sweat it. So, what's this prank that left you two alone at the quickie mart?"

Jean decided to field this one, least Scott mislead them into thinking she had anything to do with it. "Apparently Kitty and Kurt decided to lure us out of town, then stole Scott's keys and our cell phones."

Lois grinned. "Playing match maker are they? Well, did it work?"

"Doesn't matter." Scott intruded brusquely. "Whatever their reason the Professor is counting on Jean and I to take care of things. Besides, I still need to retrieve my car."

"Okay." She answered, dropping the subject for now. "So which is first, the mansion or the car?"

"The mansion." He replied. "I can't do anything with my car without keys."

"The mansion it is then." Lois said as she put the van in gear.

When they arrived at the mansion they were shocked to find the entry gate locked wide open, allowing free entrance to anyone. Heading through the trees and up the drive they couldn't even get near the garage or front doorway because there were at least a dozen cars lined up in the driveway. Parking at the end of the line and getting out of the van, their ears were assaulted by loud music billowing from the front room of the mansion.

"They're throwing a party!" Scott exclaimed in shock.

"Oh, they are so busted." Jean declared angrily.

Lois swallowed what she was going to say, but she couldn't wipe the grin completely off her face.

As for Clark, he didn't know what to think never having been, or even contemplated being, in a situation like this. As it was he didn't have long to consider how he felt about it, for as they watched security shudders began sliding into place over all the doors and windows.

"I don't think that's a good thing." Lois muttered.

****(Page break)

Inside the mansion, amidst all the noise of the party, Rogue was trying to call Risty on her cell phone to find out why she wasn't there yet when her phone went dead. A quick glance at the screen showed her that all of her bars had disappeared, which should have been impossible as the Institute had its own repeater tower on the roof. Not really thinking about it Rogue headed for the door to see if she could get reception outside, only to be brought up short by the steel shutters covering the exit way.

"This can't be good…" She muttered beneath her breath, then went in search of Kitty and the others.

****(Page break)

Mystique didn't know what to do. While it was true that the robot hadn't followed her, it was also unfortunately true that it hadn't left its post in front of the elevator either. She was cut off from the only exit she knew. Most of the doors in Xavier's basement she could easily open but they led only to dorm rooms, workout facilities and a cafeteria. She couldn't open the vault of course, nor the other door equipped with a retinal scanner. She suspected it might be 'Cerebro' and while normally she would be very interested in accessing its records, right now she had more immediate concerns like saving her blue skin. She didn't waste time on the door to the Danger Room, she was familiar with that particular chamber thanks to an earlier attempt to use Xavier's half brother to breach the mansion's security.

Oh yeah, that had proven less than successful. True the brute had succeeded in smashing his way inside, he just continued smashing everything in his path including her goal Cerebro. This time she had known better than to actually release the uncontrollable giant, he had served her purposes just fine from within his little glass menagerie.

Too bad Mr. Torque hadn't proven much better.

She did have one option she knew of, Mystique was familiar with Xavier's secret jet and she knew that he kept it in a hanger hidden beneath his estate. She was confident that with her mutant ability she would be able to exit the same way it did, something his security planners hopefully hadn't considered. Course of action determined, she checked doors until she found one requiring a thumb print to open. Morphing into a form with which she was very familiar, Rogue's, Mystique used her assumed identity to open the door and was gratified to see the nose of the X-jet beyond. So relieved was she, she rushed in without looking and ran square into another tri-wheeled robot. She tried to dive behind a support column but this time she was too slow to dodge and took a blast of electrical current right in the torso, rendering her unconscious.

Situation contained the sentinel robot returned to its watch post, a location where it could see both the door into the basement and the hanger door.

****(Page break)

Inside Cerebro Mr. Torque was getting bored with waiting for the pretty ladies to come back, so he decided to dig a little deeper on his own. Tracing the directory for the icon that initiated contact with the absent beauties, he discovered that there was a now constant back and forth of information between wherever his call had connected and something here in the mansion. Out of pique at being ignored, he severed that connection. In doing so he unwittingly initiated another security protocol, one intended for if the Institute ever fell into hostile hands. Suddenly the terminal went down, locking him out of the system. At the same time the display suspended in the air before him switched over to a static screen, while a simulated voice announced that 'Defcon 4 protocols were being initiated'.

"This doesn't look good…" He muttered before turning and running for the door. It didn't open and he couldn't find a control panel on this side. Looking back towards the abandoned terminal, he realized the door must be controlled from there on this side. It looked like it was going to be much harder getting out than it was getting in. returning to the terminal, Weber proceeded to empty his bandolier of its contents. This was going to take some work.

What he didn't know was that his tampering had removed all of the limiters from the Sentinel security robots, ordering the very sweep that Fury had intentionally avoided.

****(Page break)

"See, I told ya something was up." Rogue said to Kitty, Kurt and Spyke. The four were gathered in front of the elevator on the main floor. Kurt was hitting the call button repeatedly but the elevator refused to respond.

"It's like the school is in lock down." Spyke mused.

Kitty phased her head through the door. Pulling back out, she reported to her companions that the elevator was all the way to the bottom of the shaft.

"You don't suppose somebody broke into the basement, do you?" Spyke asked tentatively.

"Yeah, well there's only one way to find out…" Rogue answered "we have to get down there and see for ourselves."

"Yeah, how do we do that? The elevator is the only way down."

"I can take us down." Kurt volunteered. "I can teleport us."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Kitty asked. "I mean, you can't exactly see where you're going."

"Not a problem." Kurt did his best to sound confident. "I just need to know where I'm going. I can aim for the Danger Room, there's plenty of open space there and nobody should be inside."

"Let's do it." Still, Spyke sounded nervous at the idea of performing a blind teleport.

Double checking to make sure no one was watching, the others grabbed onto Kurt then disappeared in a cloud of brimstone scented smoke.

****(Page break)

The great hanger door overlooking the Sound north of the mansion partially caved in under the force of Scott's eye beam allowing Scott, Jean, Lois and Clark to fly in through the resultant gap. They were being carried within one of Jean's telekinetic bubbles. Their entrance did not go unnoticed by the waiting Sentinel, their feet had barely touched the ground and Jean's bubble dissipated when a bolt of energy came shooting towards them from the steely watchman.

Of the four Clark had the quickest reflexes and without hesitation he threw himself into the path of the beam, subconsciously hoping that his resistance to injury was up to the task. The others barely had time to register something was happening before the farm boy was thrown bodily into Jean and Lois, sending all three tumbling to the ground. Seeing the strange robot that had just downed his classmates, Scott cracked his visor turning his eye beam on it. The powerful ray carved through the machine meeting little resistance and leaving nothing but military grade scrap spread across the hanger floor. Well trained, Scott scanned the room for more threats before turning his attention to his companions.

For Lois and Jean getting hit by Clark's flying body was almost as bad as being hit by a steel pole, only this pole lacked sharp edges and was willing to bend rather than just crush any bones that became pinned beneath it. Still, Lois was sure she was going to be sporting several nasty bruises in the days to come. She wasn't thinking of that though, at the moment the only thing on her mind was the sight of Clark being hit by the ray that sent him flying. Scrambling out from under him, she and Jean rolled Clark over only to elicit a moan as he tried to curl up around the pain in his chest. The tie and dress shirt he had worn on their date had been burned away leaving only a coating of soot on Clark's flesh, which hadn't proven to be invulnerable enough. The top most layers had been seared off leaving a painful patch of exposed muscle.

"Oh Clark!" Jean yelled upon seeing the wound. "Quick Scott! Get the med kit from the…Black…Bird…" She trailed off in disbelief as she and the others watched the muscle turn back to a healthy red and the skin quickly growing back over the once gaping injury, just like they had witnessed on Logan oh so many times. Soon all that remained to show he was ever injured was a discolored patch, an angry bruise that was already beginning to fade.

As it did, Clark gave out a shuddering breath before relaxing his frame in relief. "That wasn't the kiss I was hoping for Lois." He let out in a faint whisper. "Is your dad this hard on all of your dates, or am I special?"

"Ha ha! Very funny Smallville, you're a real comedian." She tried for biting sarcasm, he deserved it after providing that scare, but any scathing her voice might have carried was lost behind her choked up emotions. "Next time, duck!"

Pushing him away, Lois climbed back to her feet. Scott reached down to help Clark rise to his.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." He quipped, before pausing and cocking his head as if listening. "Especially since it sounds like the party isn't over yet."

"What is it?" Jean asked, while Scott took up a protective watch over the group.

"Noise…it sounds like fighting, more robots I think and its coming from beneath the mansion."

"Come on." Scott's voice was grim. "Let's go see who needs rescuing."

They were too focused on the distant conflict, they failed to notice an unconscious Mystique lying on the floor behind a pillar.

****(Page break)

In Cerebro Weber Torque was lying on his back beneath the terminal, wires and circuit boards dangling down above him. He had effectively gutted its inner workings in his attempts to regain access to the system, all to no affect as he failed to get it back on line. While the software may be beyond his reach at the moment, the hardware wasn't and he was currently using a power probe to track down the wires leading to the door. After several tries his prodding finally induced the doors to open. Looking towards the hoped for exit, his smile quickly fled his face at the sight of a wheeled robot turning to face down the hall towards him. As he watched it started rolling in his direction, its arms raising to direct unmistakable weaponry in his direction. He stared in stunned shock for several seconds before countless hours of video game training kicked in, reminding him that robots pointing weapons at you isn't a good thing. Turning back to the hanging wires, he jabbed one causing the doors to slide closed. Then using a small set of wire cutters, he sniped two wires and stripped the new ends of their insulation layer before crossing them to create a constant power loop. "There, that should keep them from getting in." Of course that still left him with the problem of how to get out.

****(Page break)

With a 'bampf' the fantastic four appeared in the middle of the Danger Room, three of the four doing their best to hide relieved sighs lest they hurt Kurt's feelings.

"See, told you I could do it." He bragged.

"Yea, good work fur ball." Spyke walked to the exit. "Now let's go see what's goin on." As he neared the door it opened to admit a seven foot tall robot that towered over him from atop a three wheeled tripod. Raising its arm, the robot swung at the dark skinned boy leaving him barely enough time to cover his own forearms with bony plates to block. The impromptu armor protected Spyke from the blunt force of the blow, but the follow through still sent him flying back into the room.

With a shriek, Kitty grabbed hold of Rogue and rendered them both insubstantial as the robot proceeded to fill the room with energy blasts.

Meanwhile, Kurt used his superior agility and speed to dodge the protracted laser fire. He provided just enough distraction to give a recovered Spyke the time to send several of his namesakes into the metal attacker, destroying it. Just as they were starting to relax several more approached the open doorway.

Kitty and Rogue darted behind the remains of the first robot for cover. Kurt jumped between the waving arms of the next to enter the room, landing on its head he covered its visual receptors with his hands, again providing Spyke the opening he needed to disable their attacker. All those hours spent training in the Danger Room were now paying off in terms of teamwork.

The next robot in line was rendered moot by a blast from Scott's eyebeam as he struck from the hallway behind it.

"Are you guys okay?" Jean questioned as she and the others pushed past the robotic remains, Clark doing most of the pushing.

"Yeah, we're fine." Rogue answered, brushing off her skirt.

"Vere did these things come from?" Kurt asked Scott from where he was still sitting on the second ones head.

"I don't know." The older boy answered. "But I think that was the last of them."

"I sure hope so." A disgruntled Kitty volunteered. Followed by "We think there might be someone else down here, the invader that started all of this."

"Jean?" Scott turned expectantly to the redhead.

Closing her eyes, Jean focused her telepathic abilities outwards, mentally searching the lower floor of the Institute. "Its Weber Torque, one of the kids from school, he's locked himself inside Cerebro."

Giving the younger students a disapproving look, even from behind his visor, Scott said; "A party guest I would assume."

Kitty had the good graces to look ashamed. "Uh, yeah but I don't know how he got into Cerebro." She said.

"We'll worry about that later, let's just get him out of there." Scott didn't look happy. With the shattered remains of so many robots scattered about, there was no way they could hide this from the Professor.

They found Weber cowering inside Cerebro. He was so relieved to see them he totally missed the fact that Kitty and Rogue had phased through the door. With one touch, Rogue reduced him to an insensate lump on the floor.

By the time a mystery hover jet dropped Professor Xavier off in the yard all of the party guests had gone, none the wiser about the unusual events of the evening.

Xavier rewrote Mr. Torque's memories, leaving him with only the memories of a party and none of what was discovered downstairs. All of their efforts to find or identify his date 'Carol' had proven unsuccessful. As the taxi cab carrying Weber home left the drive, Xavier and his students watched from the front steps.

Scott decided that it would be less painful if he just dealt with the inevitable now, rather than putting it off till later. "I'm sorry professor, what happened tonight was my responsibility and…I accept the blame."

Xavier glanced out of the corner of his eye at his oldest student. Yes he was disappointed in the children, but he was also proud of them. They dealt with their mistake and now Scott, a boy he fondly regarded like his own son, was not shirking from his responsibilities no matter how much Charles knew he wanted to. "I would say there is plenty of blame to go around Scott. Even extending to a mystery guest."

Jean had been about to follow Scott's example and apologize for her failure, but the mention of a mystery guest easily distracted her. "What? You mean Arcade?" She asked.

Eyes still on the distant gate, Xavier gave his head a small shake indicative of the negative. "No, someone else. Someone who orchestrated all of this, including my trip away, just to get access to the mansion."

Scott, who always took everything seriously, was already considering the ramifications of such a plot. "So now it's up to us to find out who it was."

"Yes." Xavier replied, "And what they were after."

Author's notes:

Done, finally. That was twenty very long pages to type, especially since only about two of those pages were really needed to advance my story. The rest of it, much transcribed almost directly from the cartoon, just didn't seem to end. No matter how much I really wanted it to. That's why the last little bit seems so rushed, I wanted it done.

For those wondering how SHIELD was able to take control of Xavier's basement and its defenses, they built it. I decided that would be my explanation for Xavier having little things like the Black Bird and other military grade hardware. Also, it never made sense to me that Xavier would litter his home with weapons that could and would kill his own students, but SHIELD would. As for the Sentinels, no they aren't the giant robots from the comic but they are a primitive precursor.

I apologize for not having more of Clark in this chapter but his date with Lois was really irrelevant to the story and I had neither the patience or creativity to drag it out.

I made several changes, mostly things that again didn't add up for me. Mystique wasn't breaking in to gain knowledge that she mostly already had or never used. In the cartoon this episode was the explanation for how she found Wanda, which she still did, only I gave her a greater goal that she failed to achieve. I also changed the role of Arcade. Come on, he's good enough to hack all of Xavier's systems but can't tell the difference between security programs and a video game. He didn't even recognize that the game characters were his classmates. How lame is that?

One last change: though not mentioned in the chapter, Xavier was called in because he could use his mental powers to contain the Jugernaught. Really, it didn't make sense that he would be called in to do a tech's job. He's a geneticist, not a computer geek.


	19. Chapter 19 Kal'El

Chapter 19: Kal'El

Mystique was not a happy camper. Her hopes of retrieving at least one more of Cytorrak's gems from the Xavier Institute had been dashed. She couldn't even say for certain that the wheelchair bound telepath had one and she had searched enough of his vault to cast doubt. She did come away with a conciliation prize at least, knowledge. The disc with Magneto's name on it, the only thing she came away with, had proven most informative. The confirmation of Pietro's lineage wasn't worth much, she had always known where the boy's loyalties lay and that was with whomever best served his own self interest. The prize was the discovery of his sister, a powerful mutant with nothing but hate for the father who abandoned her. While not in a position to exploit that knowledge now, Mystique could easily foresee uses for Eric's lost little girl in the future. Unfortunately for now she had but one stone and Mr. Anderson was right, there was little she herself could do with it. She lacked the knowledge and resources to use it. She was at a dead end and the only way she could see to go from here was a phone call, one she really dreaded making, but one that might best serve her purpose.

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Xavier dismissed his students to their beds for the night, informing them that clean up, further investigation into their mysterious visitor, and the answering of any questions they had could wait till morning. He knew that Scott in particular was anxious to know where the lethal robots had come from, but right now he wasn't prepared to provide answers. Besides, he had a far less enjoyable task awaiting him, his report to Colonel Fury.

Upon approach to the mansion Charles had scanned the interior and finding no present threats, even the robots had already been dispatched, he had ordered Lt. Kimura to drop him quietly in the rear. At his advisement, the lieutenant had also called off the other aircraft. It held an entire squad of SHIELD's best agents, waiting to rappel down upon the school and retake it by force if necessary.

Entering his office Xavier locked the door behind him before making a bee line to his desk. Activating the computer terminal, SHIELD had already remotely called off the lock down, Charles initiated contact with his allies in the government. He was mildly surprised when Fury himself answered the call.

"Alright Charles, what happened?" No 'hello, how are you', just straight to business.

"We had an intruder." Charles answered, taking care not to betray any emotion. "On the surface it appears to have been nothing more than a teenage party guest with an unhealthy interest in computers."

"On the surface? Are you saying that it was something more?"

"Yes Colonel, I don't believe the containment failure at Hanging Rock was a coincidence. Someone deliberately set out to remove me from the mansion."

"Okay Professor, what _do_ we know?"

"Well, first we know that someone not only knows that my brother is being held in Hanging Rock, but also succeeded in infiltrating all of your security. Either is bad enough, but they also knew about my connection to you, at least enough to exploit it. As for what they did here at the mansion…I don't know. I searched Mr. Torque's mind and all I found was a teenage girl telling him that we had a super computer on premises. He had never seen her before that and though she accompanied him here, she did not appear to know her way around the mansion. She did insinuate that she knew at least one of my students and that knowledge of the computer came from her."

"Then one of your students told this teenage girl about it?"

"No, I don't believe so. The importance of secrecy has been impressed upon all of my students. I do not believe any of them would risk exposure that way."

"Yet they did risk it with a party." Fury responded accusingly.

Charles gave a slightly frustrated sigh. "Mutants or not, they are still children Colonel and they want to fit in. I engaged in plenty of mischief myself in my youth, has I would suspect did most of the personnel serving in SHIELD. Normally the mansion's security is more than enough to protect its secrets from the merely curious."

"But not this time."

"No, I am afraid Mr. Torque is unusually good with computers. Even the retinal scanner guarding Cerebro itself proved inadequate. I would recommend that you keep a close eye on him in the future, he could prove dangerous…or valuable. I suspect that if you gave him a challenge he would be more than willing to arise to meet it."

"I'll keep that in mind. Are you sure Cerebro was all he tampered with?"

"Mr. Torque? Yes. Once he saw Cerebro he lost all interest in anything else. Unfortunately I can't say the same for the young lady accompanying him."

Fury leaned in closer to the camera. "What was she interested in?"

"I honestly don't know. She, like most of the children, had already left the grounds by the time I arrived and Mr. Toque can't tell me because, as I already stated, once he saw the computer he lost all interest in anything else, including his date. He had forgotten all about her." Xavier didn't volunteer the knowledge that Weber had also hacked his way into the vault. Until he knew for sure that something important was missing he didn't want to give Fury any reason to trespass in his home. Charles had already decided that any further investigation would be kept 'in house' as it were.

On the monitor Fury leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled before his face he was the very image of contemplative thinking. "Then you don't foresee any further problems from this incident?" He asked, raising Xavier's ire.

"On the contrary," Charles answered, voice tight with controlled anger. "we have a very _big_ problem; Your sentries tried to kill several of my students."

"Were there any casualties?" All signs of ease were gone.

"One student was injured. Fortunately his _gifts_ protected him from lasting harm, but if any of the others had been hit I assure you the end result would have been very different."

Fury leaned back towards the monitor, his good eye staring intently through the screen. "As you said Charles, Mr. Torque managed to disrupt _all_ of our security, including SHIELD's link with the mansion and its defenses. When that happened last ditch protocols kicked in. My people are already reviewing our security measures to ensure it doesn't happen again. You of all people know what is at stake here Charles, we can't risk the rise of another Hellfire Club."

"Then is it your intention to _kill_ my students before allowing them to fall into the hands of another Sebastian Shaw?"

"It is my _intention_ to protect this country and _all_ of its citizens, using whatever means are necessary. What happened with Mr. Torque was an unforeseen anomaly and we are already taking steps to see that it doesn't happen again." Fury leaned back, once again affecting a more relaxed attitude. "When can I send my people in to perform repairs?"

Xavier paused to take several deep breaths. "I think it would be best if you hold off until Thanksgiving break. I can easily arrange for all of the children to be away for several days during the holiday."

"Very well, till then I will trust security to you and your students. They certainly didn't seem to have any trouble dealing with my Sentinels after all. You were right Charles, weapons and machines aren't the best way to deal with some problems. In fact, recent events and your success have me considering expanding this program, perhaps even beyond mutants. After all soldiers, not weapons, win battles. Good night Charles. I'll have Lt Smith contact you about the damages in the morning."

"To you as well Colonel." And with that Xavier cut the connection.

Thanksgiving was two weeks away so Charles had that much time to discover what he could about his visitor and determine what to share with SHIELD.

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It was Saturday morning and none of the students at the Xavier Institute were wandering the mall with their friends. Instead they were all confined to the mansion. Not for punishment, though they certainly felt like it was, but to clean up the mess they had created. Most of the students were upstairs in the 'public' portion, cleaning up the more mundane mess left by the unsupervised partygoers. The core group of Scott, Jean, Kurt, Kitty, Spyke and Rogue, along with Clark who had been roped in for his strength, were responsible for cleaning out the basement.

Lois was given the job of supervising the younger students. Apparently growing up on Army bases had instilled in the girl an impressive set of organization skills, not to mention a drill sergeant's bark.

It is telling to note that even with the destruction of several Sentinel robots, it took them far less time to clean up downstairs where there was less damage. A vivid reminder never to underestimate the destructive potential of teenagers.

With Logan and Ororo both still away, Charles had called Dr McCoy in to help.

Forge was also there. Xavier had tasked him with finding new ways to secure both Cerebro and the vault so that someone like Weber would be unable to compromise them again. Yes Fury and his people were more than capable of doing the job, but the professor was seriously reconsidering just how much control and influence he wanted SHIELD to have in his school. He was not happy with the actions of the Colonel's Sentinels.

While Scott, Jean and Clark remained in the hanger to work on fully opening the partially blasted door over the sound, Kitty, Kurt, Spyke and Rogue went upstairs to face the tender mercies of Lois the taskmaster. They _were_ being punished and Miss Lane put them to work scrubbing bathrooms. A task made all the worse as a result of several party goers drinking too much of the adulterated punch.

While cleaning toilets was certainly the less pleasant of the two tasks, the work in the vault was no more exciting. Charles and Hank were doing inventory, checking the vaults entire contents against the Professor's list. Xavier hadn't realized just how much he had accumulated over the years, it was truly daunting.

"I'm sorry Charles," Hank said with a sigh. "but this could take weeks."

"Yes, I am afraid you are right. Certainly we will not have finished before the arrival of Fury's people."

"Well, SHIELD has the manpower to do this quicker. Perhaps we should leave it for them. It's not like any of the contents of this vault are a secret to them."

"On the contrary…" Xavier replied, tone heavy with import. "there are some things in this vault of which Fury and his people are not yet aware and after the events of this weekend, I find myself believing that might be best."

"Charles, are you saying that you no longer trust Fury?" Hank wasn't sure if he should be surprised or not. After all, as he told Clark, he had been there in the beginning.

"No Hank, it's not a matter of trust, Fury and I still hold to the same goals, it is his methods I find myself questioning. Like Eric I fear what SHIELD might do, what Fury might deem necessary, for the sake of national security." Xavier shook himself, as if waking from a troubled dream. "No, I think it would be best if we reconsider the boundaries of our relationship. I certainly don't intend to allow them to place anymore robots on the grounds. The safety of my students are _my_ first priority and I won't allow Fury to endanger their lives again."

"While I don't consider your fears unreasonable Charles, that still leaves us with the problem of completing this inventory before Thanksgiving break and with Ororo and Logan still away…"

"Yes, well we'll just have to recruit the students to help us then. Jean and Scott should be done soon."

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As Mystique, in the form of Risty, stepped out of the unmarked helicopter into the sun of the Nevada desert, she did her best to hide the anxiety she was feeling. Deciding that it was her best option she had called the number on the card left by the mysterious Mr. Anderson and before the sun rose she was on a private jet flying to Las Vegas. Mr. Anderson wasn't there, instead she had been met by a dark haired beauty who introduced herself only as Heather, or Lady Heather as the plane's crew addressed her. Arriving in Vegas with the sun, the two women then transferred to the plain white helicopter that was now dropping them off in the badlands. The only sign of civilization was a large concrete building and a pair of four by four poles sticking out of the ground. The sign that had obviously once graced them was gone. Her host was trying to maintain his anonymity, all to no avail. People couldn't help underestimating children and teens, even when they knew better, thus there had been enough minor slips for her to discern one name; LutherCorp.

"Will Mr. Luthor be joining us?" She asked, hoping to throw her host off balance.

Lady Heather's response was instead a pleased smile. "If he chooses." She answered.

An armed security guard opened the door for them, clearing the way for the ladies to enter the building. Beyond the door was a long hall that ran the length of the building. The wall to the left was lined with windows looking out into a large vehicle bay, to the right were a series of offices, then an alcove, followed by a window lined break room. A door marked stairs waited at the far end. Lady Heather led Mystique into the alcove, past a restroom and vending machines, to a waiting elevator. The sliding doors closed behind them and without either occupant going anywhere near the control panel, the elevator began to descend. The lights on the panel indicated the first, then second and final level below ground but the elevator didn't stop.

Mystique wasn't surprised.

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Xavier's vault was a good sized chamber, but with the addition of Scott, Jean and Clark, along with Hank and the Professor himself, it was starting to feel a little…cramped.

The Professor wasted no time in handing out lists and directing the children to inventory the room's contents. To his pleased surprise Clark proved especially useful. The boy's perfect memory meant he only needed a quick glance at the list, saving time that the others spent repeatedly checking theirs. Also his x-ray vision meant he didn't even need to open most of the drawers to check their contents, another time saver. It did require him to remove his glasses, much to Jean's discomfort. In fact, Clark's gifts proved so useful for the task at hand that after only half an hour he had already inventoried as much of the vault as Charles and Hank put together, in spite of the older men having started hours ago. Witnessing this, Hank was starting to wonder about the boy's demonstrated performance at school. As one of Clark's teachers he had seen his grades and given that most of the test material passed around at school involved rote memorization, he held growing suspicion that as a student Clark wasn't giving his best effort. Whether this was due to distraction or disinterest he could only blindly speculate.

Clark had nearly finished the section assigned to him and was edging in on Scott's, when the older boy opened a secured drawer exposing a clear, multifaceted crystal that lay cloistered within.

His eye caught by the crystal, Clark spoke up before Scott finished closing the drawer.

"What's that?" He asked, puzzled. "It looks familiar, like I've seen it before."

Scott wasn't sure how to answer, knowledge of Magneto's gems was still treated as a secret not to be shared with the younger students, so he turned to the Professor for guidance.

"You'll have to ask Professor Xavier."

Hearing his name, Charles turned his chair in the direction of the boys. He saw the open question in Scott's eyes were he stood beside the open drawer of one of the fabled gems of Cyttorak. Xavier turned to Clark, intending to give a brief and vague explanation, but Clark wasn't paying him any attention. The boy's face was slack, his eyes an empty stare. Out of reflex, Charles reached out with his telepathic gift. He still couldn't understand what he was sensing, but whatever the boy was thinking the wave forms of his thoughts were all over the place.

"Clark?" He called out, to no avail.

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The elevator descended a hundred feet below the surface before releasing Mystique and her host into a tunnel not so dissimilar to the ones under Xavier's mansion. Straight ahead lay a short set of stairs leading down to another hallway, to the right was a short corridor that ended at a door, to the left stood a large round door that made most bank vaults look vulnerable in comparison. Then came the one difference that set it apart from Xavier's home, a pair of flak jacketed guards armed with machine guns standing in front of that door. Then Mystique remembered the robots prowling under the mansion and realized maybe it wasn't so different after all.

"Mrs. Darkholme, if you would follow me." Lady Heather gestured towards the door to the right. Suiting action to words, she opened the door and led Mystique into a cold and forbidding conference room. There was of course a large oval table that appeared to be made from burnished aluminum, the sections fitted together so tightly that Mystique could barely make out the lines in its polished surface. The illumination came from indirect lighting mounted around the outer edge of the ceiling. The walls themselves were lined with several large plasma screens, the biggest at least sixty two inches in size. Further study of the room was interrupted as the door opened once more, allowing the entry of a six foot, lean built man with sharp features and a leonine mane, wearing a dark business suit.

"Ah, Ms. Darkholme, welcome." He greeted her, hand extended. "I Trust your flight was not too uncomfortable and apologize for not escorting you here myself, but hopefully Lady Heather performed the role to satisfaction."

Judging that the intimidation value of her natural form would serve her better than continuing her masquerade as a teenager, Mystique shifted to display all of her blue skinned glory. "She was the very soul of grace," She replied. "but I was expecting to meet with Mr. Anderson."

"Yes, well that hardly seemed necessary and I thought it might prove more profitable if we met face…" and here he gestured to her own mutant form. "to face. Please, have a seat. May I interest you in something to drink?"

Mystique wasn't interested in pleasantries. "I would prefer we get down to business."

"Yes," He replied with a feline smirk. "I will admit to being rather impatient myself. You have the stone?"

Reaching into the neckline of her blouse, she drew forth a small pouch suspended by a cord around her neck. Opening it she spilled the contents, a crystal, into her palm.

"Beautiful." Reaching out, Lionel took the gem stone from her hand, holding it up to the light to admire its faucets. "You don't know how I have longed to have one of Cyttorak's Gems in my possession."

Mystique snatched it back. "It is not in your possession Luthor. The deal Mr. Anderson offered was that we work together, my stone and your resources, for our mutual benefit."

"Of course. If you would join me." He held his arm out to her, waiting with a smile until she took it. "Lady Heather, if you would instruct Dr. Hansen to bring a subject to the lab."

"Of course Lionel."

"Excellent." Placing his hand over Mystique's were it was hooked to his arm, he led her through the door and down the stairs with the air of a man leading his sweetheart along the boardwalk.

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Clark didn't hear the Professor, he didn't see him either. He wasn't seeing Scott or even the large, clear gem that had triggered all this. Instead his mind's eye was filled with flashing lights and flickering, ghostly images of things he didn't understand yet knew all the same. That and the voice. It wasn't speaking in English, but somehow it still comforted him, made him feel safe and…loved.

Scott followed the Professor's gaze to Clark's face, but where Charles was confused, Scott felt a small spike of fear. He'd had his own brush with the gem's mental influence, while under its power he had attacked his teammates without hesitation or regret. Concerned that it might be doing something similar to Clark, even without Magneto's machine, Scott quickly shoved the drawer closed. He was too late. Seemingly under its own power the crystal was now floating in the air, its downward point several inches above the drawer.

Clark raised his hand and the crystal shot across the intervening distance to smack solidly into his palm.

"Clark," Xavier kept his voice even, non threatening. "please give me the gem." His chair blocked the narrow aisle, hand raised towards the boy.

A quick thinking Hank quietly triggered the door controls, sealing the vault's entrance.

Looking towards the Professor Clark's eyes were no longer empty but they were cold, devoid of recognition or emotion.

"Cyt'Rac's crystal is of no concern to you human. Let me pass."

"Clark, please, let me help you."

"Clark…yes, my human name. I am Kal'El, son of Jor'El and my father left me a duty to perform. Now let me pass."

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At the lab Luthor led Mystique into an observation booth overlooking a surgical theater housing what looked like an MRI machine being fussed over by several people in white lab coats. One of those lab coats climbed the short flight of stairs to join them in the booth.

"Mr. Luther, we are ready to install the gem stone."

"Of course. Mystique, if you would please give Dr. Hansen your crystal."

Mystique gave the nervous looking man a hard stare before handing him the gem.

Scurrying back to the theater below, Dr. Hansen reached into the barrel of the machine, inserting the crystal in one of three receptacles within.

Leaning in close, Lionel explained what was going to happen to his guest.

"Obviously it would be better if we had all three stones, but unlike our friend Eric one should suffice. After all, we are not trying to modify our subject, merely learn how the crystals influence their DNA."

In the room below an orderly rolled a gurney in through the door. Strapped to the gurney was the slender form of an adolescent girl wearing a hospital gown. She had strawberry blonde hair cut short with no consideration for appearance. Upon her head she wore what looked like an upside down crown, its points pressed against her skin.

Mystique had no way of knowing it, but the girl she was watching was the missing Halley Hall.

With the help of one of the technicians, the orderly proceeded to remove the straps holding Halley's arms and legs. As they did the girl attempted to struggle, but her movements lacked strength and coordination.

"Are you using drugs to control her?" Mystique asked, uncomfortable with what she was seeing. It was too much like her early days with Magneto.

"Oh no." Lionel was quick to explain. "Prolonged drug use can have detrimental affects upon the patient and to be honest are really quite barbaric. No, the device you see upon her brow is a synaptic disrupter. It inhibits her ability to focus or even think clearly, thus preventing her from using her gifts or attempting to escape. I assure you, it is harmless and she will suffer no lasting affects."

In the theater the orderly was now strapping Miss Hall onto the machine, while the technicians busied themselves with hooking up monitoring devices to all of her vitals. Once they finished, Dr. Hansen looked up towards Lionel.

"We are Ready to proceed Mr. Luthor." He reported needlessly.

"Very good Doctor, begin."

Turning his attention back to his subject, Arthur Hansen watched as the machine drew Halley's weakly twitching form into the barrel of the machine. Once she was ensconced entirely within, the great barrel began to slowly rotate around her. On the equipment below, and on the screens in the observation booth, reams of technical data began to emerge.

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When Xavier didn't move, Clark reached down and with negligent ease, pushed his chair far enough to the side to allow passage. Scott raised his hand to his glasses but Charles signaled him to stand down. 'I don't believe that will be necessary Scott.' He sent to him telepathically.

Following Xavier's lead, Dr. McCoy and Jean stepped aside, clearing Clark's path to the door. A door that was shut and locked.

"Open this door." Clark ordered when it failed to slide aside at his approach.

"Clark, Kal'El," Xavier decided to use Clark's newly stated name in hopes it would help reach the boy. "if you allow it I am sure we can be of assistance to you. Just tell us what you need."

Searching over the door, as if studying its inner workings, Clark responded to Xavier's request without looking in his direction.

"Your assistance is not needed, nor is it desired. This is a matter of Kryptonian law and does not concern the people of Earth. It would be unwise of you to interfere."

The crystal was still in Clark's hand and he held it down by the door's control panel. Charles felt what he could only call a telepathic signal travel from Clark to the crystal, and then from the crystal to the inner workings of the door lock. In less than a second its security protocols surrendered and the vault door opened. Wasting no more time Clark proceeded down the hall in the direction of the Black Bird's hanger. Xavier and the others followed.

Seeing where Clark was headed, Charles made an intuitive leap.

'Roberto' He called telepathically to the youngster still cleaning upstairs.

'Professor X.' The boy thought back a little uncertainly.

'Please take your cell phone and wait outside. Hurry, if I am correct we don't have much time.'

'All right Professor.'

Seeing Clark heading for the open door of the hanger, Xavier tried one last time to reach him.

"Kal'El, we are not your enemies."

"Good." Was Clark's reply, then with three quick steps and a diving leap, he flew out of the hanger.

Seeing her classmate leap out over the sound, Jean nearly used her telekinetic powers to catch him, only to end up rocking her head back involuntarily as she telepathically tracked his progress upward. "Professor, he's flying away!"

"Yes, yes he is." Xavier sent his thoughts once more to Roberto where he could sense the boy waiting on the front step of the mansion. 'Roberto, Clark is flying straight up from the mansion. I want you to follow him. Don't interfere, just follow and report back understand?'

'Will do Professor.'

Kal'El flew straight up and into the upper atmosphere, a feat he wouldn't have been able to perform without the aid of the crystal. Like it had with Scott and Alex Masters, the gem stone focused his powers allowing him to use them as if they were fully matured. He flew so high up he had to hold his breath for there wasn't enough oxygen for breathing. Breaching the troposphere and entering the lower stratosphere, he sent a mental signal to the crystal, which caused it to emit an energy wave that quickly circled the globe. Two signals bounced back, the other crystals, one to the south and the other far to the west. Deciding that the one to the south was closer, Kal'El allowed himself to fall back into the troposphere. Turning his nose to the ocean, he raced south along the coast.

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Lionel watched the screens in the observation booth avidly, his mind devouring the emerging data. "Incredible" He whispered to himself. "We have accumulated more data in the last ten minutes than I was able to gather in the last century."

Mystique didn't understand a tenth of what passed over the screens before her, and she had no idea how much Luther had learned previously, but his breathless statement sounded hopeful to her.

"Is it possible to stabilize the mutant gene with only one stone?" She asked.

"My dear Mystique, with the data we are gathering it is only a matter of time and we will be able to do so without any of the stones. I dare speculate that soon we will have the ability to tailor the x-gene into any form we desire."

Yes, that sounded very promising.

The data on the screen changed to a constant set of values, before reverting back.

"Dr. Hansen, what was that?" Luthor asked.

In the theater below, Arthur was frantically searching over the reams of paper the machine was generating.

"It was some sort of energy pulse and Mr Luthor, it came from the gem stone."

"Remarkable. Is it a response to our experiment?"

"I don't think so Mr. Luthor."

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Roberto was disconsolate and very, very annoyed. Clark can fly, it was so unfair. Roberto, Sunspot, had two powers; he was really strong and he could fly. He was happy with that, even though Clark was strong the taller boy couldn't fly. Now he could, it was so unfair. To add insult to injury, he didn't need sunlight to activate it. One thing did cheer him up, as Sunspot he was _much_ cooler looking. Clark just looked like…Clark.

His moment of introspection was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone.

"Roberto's detective agency, they fly, we follow." He answered sarcastically.

"Very funny." It was Jean. "What is he doing?"

Sunspot looked up toward the distant figure in the sky above him.

"Umm, from what I can see he's just hanging around."

"From what you can see?"

"Well, yea. He flew so high up it was getting hard to breath. So I'm just hanging out down here watching. Don't worry, I can still see him. Uh oh, he's on the move again, heading south."

Hanging up the phone, Roberto gave chase.

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Kal'El flew south at what for him was a leisurely pace. Sure, his father's task was important but there was so much to see. After all, he had never flown before and the sight of the world passing below was entrancing. Still, he did have a job to do so he focused his vision in on a very large boat floating some thirty miles off the coast of Delaware, an aircraft carrier according to his Clark memories. Using his x-ray vision he peeled away the layers, visually searching for the second crystal. He found it laying on a table surrounded by three humans, one of which was armed. According to the memories his father gave him during his journey to Earth, matched with his experience as Clark, the weapon was not powerful enough to hurt him so he wrote it off as irrelevant.

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Colonel Nick Fury didn't like surprises and right now the world was making him very unhappy. First the sabotage at the Stokes County facility, then the subsequent infiltration of the Xavier Institute, and now this. After the destruction of Asteroid M, SHIELD had searched the remains and from the wreckadge they managed to retrieve two of the legendary Gems of Cyttorak. One was given to Xavier for study, while the other was brought to SHIELD headquarters for safe keeping. They never found the third.

Just moments before, their stone had set off the alarms connected to the internal sensors that monitored it.

"Well doctors, what can you tell me?"

One of the two lab coats present, an older man with a small, salt and pepper beard, looked up from where he and his younger companion were bent over studying the gem with their equipment.

"Well Colonel, the crystal emitted an electromagnetic pulse, just a brief one, before returning to dormancy."

Fury's instincts raised an alarm. "Electromagnetic, are we talking about a radio transmission?"

"I guess it could have been, but it was in an entirely different part of the spectrum, an area normally associated with astronomical phenomenon."

"I don't find that reassuring."

The Colonel's communicator began squawking for attention. "Fury." He snarled into it. "I'm guessing this is more bad news."

The voice on the other end was that of Anita Hill, currently in command of the bridge. "Sorry to interrupt sir, but radar has picked up a small aerial object approaching from the north. It isn't responding to our hails and seems to be headed straight for us."

"I thought bad things only came in threes." He muttered. "Small, as in too small for a pilot?"

"Yes sir, I'm afraid so. It might be a missile sir."

"All right, try warning it off again, and Hill…"

"Sir?"

"If it breaches the three mile mark activate anti-missile defenses."

"Understood Sir."

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Placing the crystal in his hand safely in his pants pocket, Kal'El began his descent towards the ship below. There was a loud popping sound as the ship launched several canisters into the air. Canisters which exploded filling his flight path with chaff. He didn't know its purpose but it was easy enough to deal with, a gust of super breath cleared the way before him. Then he heard a sound, as if the very air was being ripped, and something far harder than chaff struck him straight in the chest. One of the carrier's Vulcan perimeter guns had turned his way and was filling his path with flack that was far stronger than the chaff. The Vulcan canon was designed to turn an approaching missile into scrap, literally causing it to disintegrate under a hail of fire. It certainly made a mess of his clothes, and his glasses did disintegrate. Kal'El realized that if not for the crystal he was carrying the weapon would have killed him. Enemies or not, the people on the ship were certainly hostile. He adjusted his approach to compensate.

He determined a path that would carry him to the crystal, one clear of frail, human bodies. Pouring on the speed he almost immediately broke the sound barrier. Pushing energy into his eyes, he sent a scintillating ray of heat ahead that melted a hole through the ship's thick outer hull. The thinner interior walls gave easily before his might.

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Fury was just ordering the crystal returned to the vault, when the wall of the chamber caved in as a humanoid figure ripped through it like it was made of paper mache. War trained reflexes kicking in, Fury's gun was drawn and spiting death before his mind could register that the intruder's face was that of a young man, barely more than a boy. A face that his bullets bounced harmlessly off of. Then the eyes in that face did something Fury had never seen before, they dismissed him, turning towards the crystal that was now floating above the table. With a gesture it flew across the room and into the young man's waiting hand.

Ophelia Smith entered the room, gun leading, just in time to see him turn and exit the same way he came in.

Exiting the ship, Kal'El flew west so low his chest was nearly touching the waves. Weaving back and forth he avoided the Vulcan canon's attempts to strike him down.

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Following Clark west, Roberto dialed Jean's number with shaking fingers. It only rang once before she answered.

"Roberto, what is he doing now?"

"I'm not sure, but…I think he just attacked an aircraft carrier."

"What?!"

"Yea, he was flying towards this aircraft carrier and oh boy, I thought for sure he was dead when they opened up their guns on him, but he just flew in and punched a hole in it. Now he's flying west towards land."

Jean was in the Black Bird with Professor Xavier, Dr. McCoy, and the rest of the x-men core group. Scott was flying the plane, but everyone else was looking to her for news.

"Roberto said Clark is traveling west, and that he uh…attacked an aircraft carrier."

"Vy vould he do that?!" Kurt asked. He and the others had been filled in on what happened in the vault, but they had no idea why Clark would do what he was.

Only Dr. McCoy and the Professor understood the significance of this latest event.

"Charles…" Hank said, as if prodding.

Xavier took the hint.

"It most likely means that Mr. Kent has retrieved a second stone."

"From an aircraft carrier?" It was Kitty who gave it voice, but they were all wondering what was going on.

"Yes." Xavier steepled his fingers in front of his face, elbows resting on the arms of his chair. It was a nervous habit as well as a sign that his mind was intensely occupied. "As some of you may have already suspected, in my efforts to ensure a better future for both mutants and non mutants alike, I have made alliances with others. Numbered among them is the organization SHIELD, the carrier would have been theirs."

"So, what's shield?" Spyke asked.

"SHIELD is the U.S. government's response to our existence. Suffice to say there are many in positions of authority, and not just in America, that are wary of us and what we might do. I am sorry to say that their worry is not without cause. Magneto is not the first mutant to use violence to push his agenda, and believe it or not some of the others have lacked his restraint when it comes to killing. After World War II SHIELD was created to, for lack of a better term, police those with the potential to do great harm. In the beginning their focus was on extremist groups and people with access to powerful technologies and weapons. In the sixties they became aware of mutants as more than just singular aberrations and we were added to the list of SHIELD's responsibilities. Hank, Magneto and myself all worked with them. Unfortunately, given past history, Eric feared they would become a new breed of Nazis. That is why we no longer work together, why he seeks to build an army of mutants."

Scott was turning their course west, but he still managed to pay attention to what the Professor was saying, at least enough to have questions of his own.

"But Professor, isn't that what you are doing? Logan once told me that you intended to create multiple teams to deal with multiple threats."

"Yes Scott, you are correct. I convinced Colonel Fury, the director of SHIELD, that the best way to handle mutants was to work with us, not against us. He supported the creation of our school to give mutants the knowledge and support they need to adapt to the responsibilities that come with our gifts. In return, in an effort to avoid the very evil Eric fears, I promised to create the x-men, mutants ready to face the threat of other mutants. In short, that we would help to police our own. After our last confrontation with Magneto, Fury's people searched the remains of Eric's asteroid. They found two of the Gems of Cyttorak. One was given to me for further study, the other they kept."

"What happened to the third gem, Professor?" Kitty was too ashamed to admit that after the fight with Magneto was over, she never gave a moments thought as to the fate of the dangerous crystals.

"Given that Clark somehow knew where to find the one Fury kept, I suspect we will soon find out."

****(Page break)

Roberto was following Clark and though the chase pushed him, he was proud to say he was still keeping up. That is until Clark decided to cheat on him. The other boy started to climb, he went so high that Roberto couldn't hold his breath long enough to follow, and then Sunspot would swear the other boy went sub orbital. The end result was that Clark left his sight and left him behind. At the rate he was going he would be half way round the globe in a few hours. Deciding there wasn't any point in running himself ragged, Roberto drew back his speed until the Black Bird caught up with him somewhere over West Virginia. Entering the plane through an open hatch on top, he joined the others to give Xavier his report.

"Sorry Professor, I don't know how that gem stone is doing it, but I couldn't fly high enough to keep up."

"That's alright son, you did your best and as Scott once demonstrated, the power boost from Cyttorak's gems is quite considerable."

"Yea, but Professor," Scott threw in his own question. "Magneto's machine boosted my power, but it didn't bestow any new ones. So how is it one stone gives Clark the ability to fly?"

Dr. McCoy decided to field this one. "Clearly the ability to fly already belonged to Mr. Kent, he merely hadn't developed it yet. Under the influence of Magneto's machine you no longer required your visor to control your optic blast, because your mutant gift was artificially pushed to its greatest potential. In Clark's case the gift of flight must still be waiting to develop, much like all mutant traits tend to wait to express themselves during puberty, his was still dormant."

"Yo, Doc, I think Clark's a bit past starting puberty. I mean he's already over six foot." Spyke gestured with one hand above his head.

"True, but we know he has had his strength and speed for several years now, and he has already developed one new gift since arriving at the institute, his penetrating vision. Indeed, Clark seems to be a unique case. It may be that none of the normal rules will apply to him. In the meantime, I suggest we continue flying west. If he doesn't deviate from his last known course, we may yet catch up to him."

"Agreed Hank. Scott, due west with all available speed if you would."

"West it is Professor."

Jean chewed her lower lip, puzzled. "Professor. What was with him giving himself a new name? Neither Scott nor Alex did that. Unless you count calling themselves Cyclops and Havoc."

"I've been wondering about that as well Charles." Hank rubbed his chin, mind hard at work. "I also couldn't help noting that he referred to the crystal with a slightly different name then the one we know, a name I don't believe we ever told him. He also pronounced it with a hard break in the middle, similar to the way he said Kal'El and Jor'El. It seems like a strange coincidence."

"Not to mention the way he said it wasn't any business of us _humans_." Scott added.

"Yes, it was most peculiar."

Xavier didn't like were this conversation was leading. True, he had encouraged Clark to entrust the others with his secret, but he was confident this was not the way the boy would want to do it. It also had nothing to do with showing trust, was in fact more likely to destroy any that had developed.

"I am sure there are answers to all of our questions, but I feel it would be best if we save our speculating for when Clark is here to participate. Jean, would you help me search for him. Perhaps we may yet find him."

"Of course Professor."

****(Page break)

Kal'El was flying over Las Vegas, he recognized it from Clark's memories of going there with Ororo and Lois, it just wasn't the same when looking through a plane of glass. He also recognized the presence of a large air force base, the name Nellis rising up from his human memories. Given the hostility of the people on the ship, he waited till he was well past the next range of mountains before beginning his descent.

Ahead of him he saw a solitary, concrete building in the middle of the desert. Only the presence of a parked helicopter betrayed the presence of life. Again using his x-ray vision he found the third stone deep under the ground, connected to the surface by one lone elevator shaft. He also found a lot of men with guns. He decided it would be best to retrieve the crystal and then depart as quickly as possible.

He smashed through the ceiling into a large vehicle bay. He didn't slow down until his course carried him through a window lined wall and the closed doors of the elevator shaft. Leaving them a mangled mess, he quickly descended into the darkness below.

****(Page break)

Luthor had descended from the observation booth and both he and Dr. Hansen were trying to puzzle through the crystal's strange behavior, when the clarion call of the emergency alarms went off. Followed almost immediately by the sound of machinegun fire from down the hall. Before Lionel had a chance to give any orders, the door to the lab launched itself from its casement and flew across the room where it slammed hard against the far wall. Standing in the vacated doorway was a young man in tattered blue jeans and a red t-shirt.

Kal'El strode across the room to the machine that housed the crystal. There was a girl lying within the machine, strapped down to a sliding tray. Bending down, he extended his arm and head into the barrel of the machine, snatching the crystal as it passed over the girl's face. He was pulling back, intending to leave, when with obvious difficulty the girl whispered one word; "_Help_".

He paused. Considering the situation, the way she was strapped down, the presence of so many men with guns, not to mention the fact they were messing with Cyt'Rac's crystal which couldn't be good, he concluded that she was not a willing participant in whatever experiment they were performing. He was here to retrieve the crystal, but Jor'El sent him to Earth to help and he felt certain his father would have wanted him to help this girl, no matter how inconvenient.

In less than a second he had forcefully pulled the tray from within the barrel of the machine and snapped her restraints. Cradling her in his arms in a bridal carry, Kal'El turned towards the exit to find several armed men rushing in from the hall. Drawing in a mighty breath, he scattered them like leaves on the wind. By the time Luthor and his men regained their equilibrium he was gone.

Mystique was furious. She recognized the Kent boy, once again Xavier and his x-men had stolen from her.

****(Page break)

Kal'El flew back into the sky. Because of the presence of the fragile girl in his arms he couldn't fly at the heights by which he came and was thus slowed considerably. Now that he had rescued the girl, he had to decide what to do with her. He now had all three crystals and needed to take them to the ship his father built, but he couldn't just abandon her. He quickly found his answer. The ship was hidden on the Kent farm. They were good, compassionate people. They took care of him, he was confident they would also take care of her. That decided, he began the trip to Kansas at a much slower pace. Looking closer at his passenger, he found the strange device upon her head. The crystals told him it was transmitting a signal into the interior of her skull and it didn't take a genius to realize that it was the cause of her inhibited state. Studying the device he found its power source. A quick burst of heat vision severed it from the rest of the device, rendering the whole thing inoperable.

For the first time in she didn't know how long, Halley Hall's mind cleared and her confused nightmare ended. The nightmare part at least, she was still mighty confused. The first thing to greet her eyes was the face of a young man about her own age. A very handsome face and she blushed at the feel of his arms wrapped tight about her, his warm hand on her naked skin. Naked skin? She 'eeped' as she realized that all she was wearing was a flimsy hospital gown that was blowing mostly open in the wind, leaving his left hand wrapped firmly about her right thigh, well north of the knee. This revelation was quickly followed by the discovery that they were flying far above the ground, without the benefit of an airplane. The 'eepe' that followed was much louder as she grasped him tight about the neck for fear of falling.

"You don't need to be afraid." He said in a deep voice, his blue eyes looking into her own. "I will not drop you."

"Were are you taking me?"

Kal'El had to think about that, but in the end there was only one word that came in answer to her question. "Home."

****(Page break)

"Professor."

"Yes Jean, I sense him. We've found Clark and he is coming back our way, and he isn't alone. Halley Hall is with him."

"The missing girl from Pennsylvania?" Scott asked.

"Vere do you think he found her?" Kurt queried.

"I can only assume in the same place he found the third crystal."

"How do we know he has it Professor." Jean asked.

"We don't, it is a presumption based solely on his change in direction. The real question is where is he going now? Scott, what is our current location?"

"37 degrees north Latitude, 102 west Longitude. We just crossed over from Kansas to Colorado." Scott answered after consulting his instruments.

"Kansas?" Jean sounded surprised. "Professor, you don't suppose he's going home?"

Xavier was suddenly struck by the memory of what waited at the Kent farm, the space craft in the cellar. "Yes Jean, I think he might. Scott, turn us around. Take us to the Kent's."

****(Page break)

It was just after noon in Kansas and Martha was preparing hot soup for lunch, when through the window she saw her son descending to land outside their door. She didn't know which surprised her more, the fact that Clark had been flying, or the presence of the young girl in his arms wearing only a hospital gown infamous for its lack of modesty. Turning down the stove she hurried out the door to greet them, the mother in her reflexively grabbing the knitted afghan off the back of the couch.

"Clark, what's going on?"

Kal'El placed Halley down on the porch beside Martha. As soon as her feet hit wood, Martha was wrapping the heavy afghan around the girl gone suddenly cold without the heat from Clark's body pressed against hers.

"Martha Kent, this girl needs someone to care for her." That said, Kal'El turned and with rapid strides made his way around the house. No sooner had he left Martha and Halley's sight, then a long, sleek black jet descended onto the hard packed driveway. It was quite the distraction from Clark's strange behavior.

While Hank lowered the exit ramp, preparatory to disembarking, Xavier took hold of Jean by the wrist.

"Jean, I need you to take care of Miss Hall. Doubtless she will be very frightened and it would be best if you could ease her fears, keep her calm. Remember, we will be offering her a place at the institute."

"I'll do my best Professor."

Leaving his combine behind, Jonathan Kent came racing across the already harvested fields on his four wheeler. He hadn't seen Clark's arrival, but there was no way he could have missed the landing of the rather intimidating black jet. It came as a great relief, while at the same time stirring deep worry, when he found Martha speaking to the wheelchair bound Charles Xavier by the front porch. A small crowd of teenagers was milling about, as if looking for something. A quick check revealed that Clark wasn't among them.

"Jonathan!" Martha called upon seeing him. "Clark just _flew_ in with this girl and…"

"Mrs. Kent," Xavier rudely interrupted. "if you don't mind, I think it would be best if we took Miss Hall inside. She has suffered a very traumatic experience. Mr. Kent, I believe Clark went around back to the _fruit cellar _if you want to speak with him_."_

Neither Jonathan or Martha knew what was going on, but they decided to play along.

"Martha, why don't you take our guests in out of the cold and I'll go talk to Clark."

"Okay Jonathan. Everyone come inside, I have hot soup on the stove, though I might need to make more. I wasn't expecting company for lunch but we're more than happy to have you. Miss Hall?"

"Halley." The girl told her nervously. She didn't know any of these people, yet the man in the wheelchair knew her name.

"Halley then." Mrs. Kent addressed her with a warm smile. "Come inside and I'll see if I can't find you something better than that drafty gown."

Halley gave a shy smile back. "Thank you Mrs…Kent?"

"Call me Martha dear. Now come on, all of you."

The students followed her in, excluding Roberto and Scott who at first went to follow Mr. Kent, but was telepathically warned off by Xavier. Hank received the same warning, but chose to disregard it and followed the elder Kent around the house to where the mound of a root cellar was visibly swelling up from the ground. "Mr. Kent, if we could stop and talk for a moment." He requested once they put the house between them and the students.

Jonathan looked anxiously towards the root cellar. He didn't know why Clark would be going in there, since the day they told him about its contents he had been avoiding it like the plague. "Okay, maybe you can tell me what's going on Mr…?"

"McCoy, Dr. Hank McCoy. I'm one of Clark's teachers."

"Oh, from Xavier's Institute."

"Actually, no. I'm one of his teachers at Bayville, the local high school, but I've known Charles since before he started the Institute."

"Are you a mutant?" Jonathan asked, not sure of the response he would receive.

Hank didn't want to tell him, but decided that under the circumstances honesty would be required of everyone. "Yes, but my differences are not obvious and only Charles knows. If you don't mind, I would like to keep it that way."

"Don't worry, I'm very good at keeping secrets. Now what's going on with Clark?"

"I'm afraid we really don't know. He was helping us do inventory and among the things Charles has collected over the years is an ancient crystal of unknown origin. When Clark saw it he suddenly started acting strange, he took it and then claimed his name was really Kal'El. He spoke of a task his father gave him, I'm assuming he didn't mean you, then he flew away."

"Flew?"

"Yes, like a bird. A power I don't believe he had ever possessed before. After that we have reason to believe he retrieved the other two crystals in the set, one of which even we didn't know the location of. He also came back with Miss Hall. We don't know where he found her but she was forcibly abducted from her home town weeks ago."

"Kidnapped?! Do her parents know she's okay?" It was every parents worst nightmare.

"Not yet, but don't worry I'm sure she's asking to call them even now."

Jonathan looked once more towards the root cellar. "Did Charles, did he tell you about Clark and…" He gestured to the cellar, his unease obvious.

"No, I don't think so. Mr. Kent, is there a reason Clark would bring the crystals here, to your root cellar?"

"I don't know…maybe." Anxious and worried, Jonathan hurried to the root cellar, deciding he had more important things to worry about than keeping Clark's secret from Xavier's mutant friends.

While everyone else was playing meet and greet, Kal'El descended into the fruit cellar. Using his heat vision he severed each of the locks securing the entrance. Pushing the door open he entered and quickly uncovered his father's legacy, the ship that carried him to Earth. Emblazoned upon the prow of the craft was the crest of the House of El. Placing his hand upon the diamond shaped symbol, he willed it open exposing a small indentation shaped like an arrow head four inches long. Placing the three crystals within, they fit as if the space was designed with them in mind, he watched as the ship altered their outer and inner structure. By the time his father and Dr. McCoy made their way into the cellar it was to witness him removing a new crystal from the ship, one shaped similar to the craft. The arrow head shaped crystal now glowed green in his hand.

"Clark, son, what's going on?" Jonathan asked, stepping within arms length of his son.

Kal'El returned his gaze, eyes lacking any recognition. "Jonathan Kent, I have a task to complete and I am almost finished. Do not try to interfere."

Jonathan tried to stop him from leaving, but the boy moved too fast for him and soon he was witness to the bottom of his son's feet as he flew straight up into the sky.

When Jonathan and McCoy walked away and Martha led the children into the house, Xavier remained outside. Using telepathy he asked Roberto to remain as well. Scott did so at his own initiative.

"Professor, why didn't we go with them?" He gestured with his head in the direction Jonathan and McCoy disappeared.

"Because Scott, I believe this is one time when the fewer people involved the better."

"All right Professor, but why did you want me?" Roberto was a gregarious sort and he wanted to meet the new girl. In spite of her shorn hair she was still pretty, and he suspected she wasn't wearing much under that blanket.

"We are waiting just in case."

"Just in case what Professor?" Scott kept glancing after the others, the control freak in him desperate to understand what was going on.

"Just in case this isn't Clark's last stop."

When Kal'El left, Xavier was watching.

"There he goes. Roberto, follow as well as you can, we'll catch up in the Black Bird."

"Alright Professor." Flaring off with the help of the sun, the teen rose up in pursuit of his erstwhile classmate.

Scott ran to the jet to prepare for takeoff. Xavier made his way as quick as he could. He also sent a message to Jean explaining the reason for their departure and promising to come back soon. He had just reached the foot of the ramp when Hank came running up, leading an upset Mr. Kent.

"Where is he going?" Jonathan demanded of him.

"I don't know, but if we hurry we should be able to follow him."

Hank pushed the chair quickly up the ramp. Jonathan cast one last glance towards the house, before following into the jet.

****(Page break)

Flying north, Kal'El flew up above the atmosphere. The task ahead was going to require a lot of power, so he spent several minutes holding his breath and soaking in the undiluted light of the sun, before plunging back down again towards the expansive fields of ice below. Settling softly upon the crusted snow and ice, he held the green crystal up before him. When he let go it remained suspended in the air. Targeting it with his heat vision, Kal'El poured all of the energy he had within him into the gem stone. He was so focused, he wasn't even aware of the Black Bird settling down behind him.

Once the stone glowed so bright it competed with the sun, he stopped and taking it in hand he threw it several hundred yards away. The crystal landed upon the ice, then promptly melted through, disappearing from sight.

The Black Bird had just settled upon its landing gear and its occupants were rising from their seats, when all of the hair on their bodies stood on end as the lights in the plane went dark.

"What was that?" Asked a startled Scott.

Hank provided the answer. "I believe it was an electro magnetic pulse. We are fortunate it didn't occur any earlier."

Without power, Scott was forced to manually open the smaller hatch on the side of the plane. He jumped down to the snow covered ground below. Hank and Jonathan followed, while Sunspot carried Xavier's chair. They had just about made it to where Kal'El was silently standing, when the air was filled with the sound of cracking ice as massive pillars of crystal forced their way skywards. They watched in awe as the crystals continued to rise, forming a massive structure the shape of which was similar to a pyramid. A formation that resembled stairs led up to were a large image of the diamond shaped crest was etched into the crystal. Xavier was still considering the significance of its presence, when Jonathan distracted him with his worried cry. Turning away from the magnificent edifice, Charles saw Clark lying face down in the snow.

Author's notes:

There it is, a chapter I have anxiously waited to write. The Fortress of Solitude has been raised, though it will be some time before its significance is realized (two more years if I stick to my original plan). This chapter wasn't supposed to happen until after Thanksgiving, but I messed up my time line with Xavier's intent to do inventory before SHIELD got involved. I had to push back what was supposed to be the next chapter, requiring the change of leaving the ship intact, instead of having it consumed in the creation process. I guess it's okay if it remains in the Kent's fruit cellar.

One question, I have performed a limited reveal of Clark's secret, so do I rip the band aid off entirely, or leave him balancing on the precipice of sharing with the others a little longer? Let me know if you think I'm moving too fast, or dragging it out too long.

2ptTakrill


End file.
